Djinjer: A Worgen's Tale
by Fallena Valistar
Summary: Djinjer, a simple redheaded farm girl aspiring to be a warrior, suffers the same fate as many Gilneans. This is the story of her life before and after she becomes a Worgen.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_Djinjer: A Worgen's Tale  
_**Author's Note:** _First things first, Djinjer is pronounced just as it should be. If you don't know, it follows the same guidelines as Djinni, which Walt Disney will have you misspell as Genie! Originally, I didn't think much about my Worgen character, so I intended to name her Ginger after the werewolf movies Ginger Snaps (yay). Ginger, however, was already taken SO I thought about it and stuck with Djinjer. This isn't my first WoW fic. I have a huge storyline for my main and loads of fics with it, however, I kinda stretched the lore to make more sense, which is why I'm not posting it on . Instead, I've decided to post this one because it'll really stick with the in game lore and build without being too bleeeegh. I don't know how long it'll be or how often I'll update it, but here it is. Enjoy!_

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Gilneas. Secluded from the rest of the world since the Second War, it is home to many who love and adore it. Growing up in such a secluded area meant that over time, its people began to relax and enjoy life-free from danger. No one was miserable. There were no exceptionally poor people and over all, everyone got along with one another. That didn't mean families didn't have feuds and there weren't rumors that could hurt a person, but it did mean that everyone could often put those differences aside and enjoy their secure life.

Most children and teenagers often wonder about the outside world. They would like to travel, to break away and become free from the restrictions of the mighty Greymane Wall. But Djinjer never wondered about the outside world. She never cared to know what was out there, because she was perfectly happy within the walls of the Greymane Wall.

Djinjer took a deep breath, staring up at the clouds in the sky. What more could she ask for? Laying on the sandy shores of the beach just south of her hometown of Duskhaven, Djinjer couldn't ask for a better afternoon. In her arms was the very love of her life. Djinjer gazed down at the brown haired girl snoozing in her arms. It was a forbidden and not-so-secret love, but a strong one all the same.

Upon visiting the city with her parents, Djinjer saw Kimberly. Of course she found her attractive, but having such a secret meant that Djinjer often saw attractive females but never acted upon her attraction. This time, however, it was different. Kimberly's hazel eyes met her brown ones and instantly, they knew they were the same. She and Kimberly met as "friends" to most people. But after their relationship kicked off, there wasn't much they could do to hide their feelings.

Well, there were a few things they did. For instance, she and Kimberly never kissed when anyone was around. They held hands, but that was often seen as an innocent thing between two friends. When on a date, they stayed out of the city, preferring to stay closer to her hometown. So how did their secret become less than a secret? A simple kiss witnessed by a fisherman and told to his wife, who told the baker's wife, whom told someone else and on and on it went. Apparently, because they were both such lovely ladies, neither one was really asked about the truth, therefore their secret relationship was known about-but never confirmed.

Djinjer took another deep breath, which caught her lover's attention. Kimberly sat up, smiling down at Djinjer, but it wasn't the happy smile Djinjer had become used to. Perhaps that was because of Djinjer's "obsession" with becoming a warrior. Since the construction of their great wall, there was little reason for women to continue serving in the line of duty. Women soldiers were not as common as they used to be…but Djinjer enjoyed the life of a warrior. Ever since she met Kimberly, more than three years ago, Kimberly did her best to talk her out of that interest and become more "lady like." Was that the reason behind Kim's unhappiness? She didn't know.

"I should be going," Kim murmured softly. "It'll be late by the time I get home."

"Then let me walk with you," Djinjer replied, sitting up with a smile.

"I don't know," Kimberly sighed. "What will people think if they see us walking together?"

Djinjer looked the two of them over. She was wearing a dainty, expensive looking dress that was now dirtied with sand and grass stains. Djinjer was wearing overalls that were rolled up to her knees. "They'll think I'm walking you home."

"Djin," Kimberly stood up, holding her hand out to Djinjer. Djinjer gladly accepted it. "You know my family doesn't like me being around you so much."

"I know," Djinjer shrugged, "But with the rumors going around, I honestly think your family will be happier if you weren't alone in the city."

Rumors.  
No matter what they were about, they were quite powerful. How often did a rumor hurt someone or terrify them? Now, there were rumors amongst the city of a spreading curse; a curse that could kill. Never one to be swayed by rumors, Djinjer wasn't afraid of being on her own-anywhere. And that rule was nearly a law lately: Never be alone. Always have someone beside you for safety. Even the men were required to have someone with them. But Djinjer didn't mind, she would be quick once Kimberly was returned to her home.

Seeing she wouldn't win this battle, Kimberly forced out another smile and continued to hold Djinjer's hand. The two walked at a quick pace to make it back to Duskhaven, where Djinjer informed her parents of where she was going-only for them to continue their pace back to the city. Night, however, had fallen by the time they reached the silent, nearly empty city. There was sounds of life and joy in the houses they passed, which was far more comforting than complete silence.

"If you get caught," Kimberly was standing so closer to Djinjer that many times she would trip or stumble, "I won't help you."

Djinjer chuckled softly. "Don't worry about it. You worry too much and you'll be more gray than Greymane himself." But Kim didn't chuckle. There was absolute terror in the girl's eyes.

"You don't hear what we do, living out in Duskhaven. More men are signing up for night patrols. There's something out there," and to support that fear, a howl rang through the night.

Kim literally threw herself around Djinjer, trembling as if the howl meant something more than just a howl. Djinjer actually laughed, "Get a hold of yourself, Kimberly. It's just one of the mastiffs."

"That's no mastiff," Kimberly said. "Please! Let's hurry to my home. I don't want to be outside any longer."

Djinjer placed a quick kiss on Kimberly's forehead and did just as her lover wanted to. The two of them quickly made their way through the backstreets to Kimberly's home, where she found Kimberly's family's doorman standing outside with a lantern. "Welcome home, Miss Kimberly. Good evening, Miss Djinjer." He gave a slight bow of his head and turned his attention on Kim, "Your family is inside, waiting for you."

But before she could even take a step forward, a young man appeared in the doorway. He sighed loudly in relief and rushed forward, pulling a pale Kimberly into his arms. "I've been looking for you _everywhere_ in the city!" he said, followed by placing a kiss upon her lips.

Djinjer couldn't process what she was seeing before her. The man held Kimberly in the same manner that she held her. He kissed her in the same way she kissed her. Who was this man? He turned to Djinjer, "Thank you," he said, bowing slightly. "Kim's father called for me when she hadn't returned home. The Night Patrol is out looking for her at this very moment. Bastards told me I couldn't stay out any longer. Please, come in."

Djinjer didn't know why she followed the two of them inside. She didn't know why she followed them through the hallway to the main room, where Kim's father stood near the fire place and her mother sobbed into a handkerchief. "Oh, Kimberly!" her mother bolted up, rushing over to her daughter. "We thought the worst when you didn't come home!"

"Mother, there's no reason to be so hysterical."

Her father huffed irritably, ignoring Djinjer and focusing on the man that stood beside her. "Zathaniel, you'll find that my daughter enjoys tormenting us by never telling us where she's going, how long she'll be out. But I can assure you, she's _always_ with that blasted Djinjer girl."

A sudden realization seemed to wash over the man and slowly, he turned to look at her. Djinjer looked at him, wondering just what this all meant. The man before her was well-muscled, though not in the way of a warrior or a rogue. He was quite certain, just from looking at him, that this man called Zathaniel was a hunter. And after a quick look over at his fancy, near royalty clothing, Djinjer assumed he was a rich hunter at that.

"Thank you," he said softly. His short black hair was brushed back with no a strand misplaced. He had no facial hair, but wore a small scar on his right cheek. "Thank you for returning _my fiancée_ home to her family. I will not deny knowing the rumors of you, but I do not believe them to be true. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Her father huffed again, but ignoring him, Djinjer merely looked over Zathaniel's shoulder at her friend. Kimberly hung her head in shame and from what she could see of her lover's face, it had reddened from embarrassment. "The pleasure is mine," Djinjer forced out, giving a quick bow. "I must return home, now, before the gates close."

"Please, allow me to accompany you," Zathaniel murmured. "I would not rest well knowing a young lady such as yourself is out on your own. These are dangerous times."

Djinjer shook her head, "I'll be fine. Good evening."

"Djinjer," but Djinjer quickly made her way out of the house. As soon as the door closed, a sob escaped from her. It didn't take much for Djinjer to run through the city with her vision blurred. She knew the way to and from Kim's house better than the back of her own hand. Right now, all she wanted to do was get far away from that house and far away from that Zathaniel. With each step, however, the truth of the situation sunk in deeper and deeper. Kimberly, the love of her life, was engaged to a man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** _This is sort of a tie over chapter, and really the beginning of the quakes. So essentially, this took place around the same time as the Pre-Launch Events and I kind of stretched it out to last longer, so instead of two months of Pre-Launch events (was it even two months?) this chapter would take place in the first month of what would be seven or eight months. (You'll see what I mean with the next chapter) Anyway, enjoy. It was a bit difficult to write because I honestly didn't have any guidelines for this chapter. I hope it's not too bad. Also, after doing the Worgen Questline, I really thought of Gwen Armstead as a bit more Cockney than what she is :P Don't judge me.  


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It had been an entire week since she last saw Kimberly. At first, after witnessing such a horrible lie unfold before her, Djinjer was depressed. She cried just like any girl would in that situation, but by the following morning, she knew she couldn't just mope around. The truth of the matter was, the more she stayed still; the more she did nothing around the house, the more she thought about Kimberly and her fiancé, Zathaniel. That's not what she wanted to focus on, so Djinjer kept herself extremely busy. She awoke before her parents and cooked them breakfast, which consisted of over cooked eggs, slightly burnt toast and undercooked has browns, but at least the bacon came out fine.

After that, she immediately joined her father out in the fields. Her parents were the owners of two very large fields. Both brought in a good amount of money and truly, they had enough to buy themselves a larger house or perhaps live in the city, but as her father always said, "We don't need a larger house than what we have. And if we lived in the city, who could they rely on for delicious corn and potatoes?" Her mother also had a small garden of her own, which was primarily spices and herbs. Djinjer and her father were strictly forbidden to touch it.

By the time noon came around, she and the other hired workers were covered in sweat, but at least had most of the corn from the field picked. Djinjer gave a quick look at the men around her. Most of them were her father's friends and out of the younger ones, she had been set up with most of them.

As soon as Djinjer took a step out of the cornfield, her heart felt as though it dropped into her stomach. Standing at the front door of her house was Kimberly and her fiancé. Zathaniel, whom was looking out into the fields, saw her first and gave a polite wave. Djinjer sighed and wiped her face and the back of her neck with a rag. "Friend of yours?" asked one of the boys she had grown up with. Jeremaya, the one boy she was most likely to be married to when she was younger, was the closest friend she had. He was like a brother to her and knew all about her secret, which now seemed to be completely dismissed by everyone.

"Fiancé of Kim," Djinjer bit out, finally waving back. She took a look at her shocked, blond friend, and walked over to the two.

"There she is now," her mother said as she approached them.

Kimberly turned around, looking more beautiful and lovely than ever, but far more refined as well. Zathaniel, on the other hand, appeared much as he had the night she met him. He wore expensive clothes that were placed and creased perfectly. But as she glared up at him, she found that he smiled back with pure eyes. Instantly, even if she was angry at the situation, she became less angry with him. He had not known…or at least he didn't seem to know that Kim was already taken.

Djinjer sighed again as Kimberly began fidgeting. "Hello, Djinjer," Kimberly said softly. "I was wondering if I could have a bit of a private word with you?"

"Sure," she replied, tickled that Kimberly decided to lead the way. Duskhaven had quickly become Kimberly's second home. She even became friends with Mayor Gwen Armstead, whom Djinjer had her own suspicions about.

Once they were out of hearing range, Kimberly turned around, not looking at Djinjer but looking past her. "Seems your father is fond of Zathaniel."

"Good for him," Djinjer snorted out.

"Look," Kimberly turned her gaze to Djinjer and for a moment, Djinjer remembered exactly why she loved this girl. Tears sprang to her eyes, but quickly, Djinjer blinked them back. "I was going to tell you. I mean, I told you my father was inviting the young bachelors to dinner."

"So was my father, but I'm not engaged." Djinjer's tone was cruel and bitter, even to her own ears.

"Zathaniel was the only one that truly seemed interested in me. He's kind and handsome and-"

"Rich," Djinjer finished.

Kimberly sighed, "That's not why I'm with him and you know that. I mean, it may be a plus for my parents but not for me. I care a lot about him and I'm starting to wonder if maybe I was wrong all of these years."

That last part hurt more than it should have. "Did you ever mean it?" Djinjer asked softly. "I might be a rough girl. I might even be a bit of a brute sometimes but…I still have a girl's heart."

Tears formed in Kim's eyes. "Of course, Djinjer. I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it."

"Then why lie about us? About him?"

Kimberly sighed and wiped at her eyes. "It's complicated. I didn't think I would see much of him, but unlike the other suitors, he came to me whenever he could. Like I said, he seemed to care more about _me_ rather than _marriage_. And…" she took a deep breath and sighed loudly, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was certain whatever I was going through with Zathaniel wouldn't last, so I didn't bother telling you."

Djinjer shook her head, "So that's what you came here to say?"

Kimberly was quite for a moment. She looked past Djinjer and gave a smile and wave, then turned her hazel eyes to Djinjer's. "We're going to be married soon, Djinjer, and I want you there."

Djinjer wanted to scream out, "Haven't you caused me enough pain?" but her mouth wouldn't open. Her voice was trapped inside of her throat and nothing she did would free it. "Please," Kimberly whispered. "If I have to lose you as a partner," she never called her a 'partner' before, "then I'd like to keep you as my very best friend." Kimberly was the more romantic out of the two. She always referred to Djinjer as "my love," or "my darling," never by "partner." How cold and cruel the word seemed now.

"Please," she murmured.

"_Fine_," Djinjer snapped out, spinning around to storm back to the house. As soon as she neared it, his eyes met hers again.

"She said she would come," Kimberly's enthusiasm and happiness didn't entirely mask the pain in her voice, which her fiancé seemed to pick up on.

"Is everything alright?"

Ever the quick thinker, Kimberly threw herself in her fiancé's arms and said, "I just can't believe this is happening. I'm so happy," but Djinjer knew the lying tone in Kim's voice.

Her father chuckled as he watched the couple before him. "Bout time _you_ get a beau of your own," he directed towards her.

Djinjer meant to sigh, but withheld from doing so. Especially when Kimberly threw her arms around her neck. "I love you, Djinjer, with _all_ of my heart."

With so many conflicting feelings running through her, Djinjer didn't have time to react before Kimberly stepped away from her. "Well, Djinjer," Zathaniel seemed very happy at the moment, "your father tells me you're interested in joining the Gilnean Army?"

It was an odd subject change.

"Yes," Djinjer murmured. "As a close-quarters warrior."

"That's," he seemed to be fighting for the right word. It wasn't often that women took up being warriors in the army, "very interesting." She was sure he was only being polite. "I've been trained in swords, as well. Perhaps one day we can have a friendly duel?"

"I doubt it," but hearing the rudeness in her voice, she quickly added, "That awful thing is my sword."

"It's not awful," her father shouted as Zathaniel turned to look. The old, rusted sword was resting against the house. "I paid good money for that!"

"Yes," Djinjer's mother added with a chuckle, "When you were a young boy, aspiring to join the army."

Djinjer couldn't tell you what happened for the remainder of that visit. It was hard for her to focus on anything going on around her. One moment they were discussing swords and the next, it seemed as if Kim had disappeared all together. Weeks passed and Djinjer continued with her busy schedules. The change in her was noticeable to her parents, but her father brushed it off as a "rude awakening" that her friend was going to be married but Djinjer didn't even have a beau of her own. Her mother, on the other hand, seemed to know the truth, even if she didn't speak it.

Ignoring the world around her for several weeks, the day that she had been dreading finally arrived. Her mother got out the best dress owned in the family, which could still be called shabby compared to some of the frocks Kim wore. And because only the Mayor and herself were attending the wedding, Mayor Armstead agreed to bring Djinjer by carriage.

The Mayor looked absolutely beautiful, sitting upon her wagon. She wore a lovely lilac dress with a small, veiled top hat to match. "Enough gabbin', you two," she directed to Djinjer and her mother with a smile. "We've got a weddin' to attend." She patted the wooden bench beside her and quickly, Djinjer made her way to the Mayor's side.

"Be safe!" her mother called, waving happily.

"We will," the Mayor called back. The silence was awkward between the two of them as the horse pulled their wagon along the cobblestone road. The silence didn't help her discomfort, especially since this was the first time she wore a dress and Djinjer _never_ wore her hair styled up as it was. With a soft sigh, Djinjer expected the rest of the ride to feel like it would last forever, which could only mean one thing: this would be a horrible day.

But the sigh didn't go unnoticed by the Mayor, "Copper for your thoughts?"

Djinjer decided to keep it short and sweet, "Never been to a wedding before."

"Don't worry," her voice was pleasant to listen to. "It's always slow to start and when it's over, it's quite the breath of fresh air, but then the festivities begin and before you know it, you're dancing on a table wearing little else besides your top hat." Djinjer couldn't help but stare at the Mayor in surprise. "Don't look at me like that," she laughed out, "It happened a very long time ago. What I mean is," she repositioned herself slightly, "is that you'll have fun, you'll be happy, and you'll feel downright silly for being so nervous about it."

Is that how she came off? As nervous?

A glint caught her attention, and slowly, Djinjer looked down, finding a large silver musket lying behind them. "You can never be too safe these days," the Mayor explained, obviously noticing Djinjer staring at the gun. "I'll have you know, I've traveled with that gun since I became Mayor…and I have yet to use it. Let's hope it stays that way."

"Mayor," Djinjer suddenly remembered something. "What's going on in the city?"

Mayor Gwen suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It's not a…real worry…at the moment," she said slowly and thoughtfully. "There's no need to cause panic over something that may be remedied."

Sensing that she wouldn't get much else on the subject from the Mayor, Djinjer decided to hush up and enjoy the view. Djinjer always loved watching the city as she approached it. It was beautiful and there wasn't a day in her entire life that she thought otherwise. As the Mayor rode through the city, people greeted her and others looked at Djinjer with question in their eyes. It didn't take long to make it to the Light's Dawn Cathedral, where they were helped down from their wagon.

"Got your head on straight?" Mayor Gwen asked. Djinjer gave a nod. "Good. Come find me when it's all done and over with, but if ya can't find me, just talk to Charles, the stable master."

"Thank you," Djinjer said and with a nod, the Mayor disappeared into the large crowd of people near the doorway.

Djinjer mimicked the Mayor, slipping into the crowd. She maneuvered around people with some difficulty and finally made it to the main room. She took a seat on the very last bench, but even from here, she could spot the brunette man that helped ruin her life. He stood next to none other than Prince Liam Greymane himself. With a quick glance around the room, she found the Mayor standing beside King Genn Greymane with his wife, Queen Mia, on his arm.

Silently, she wondered why the Greymane family was present at such a minor wedding and why did Liam look so relaxed standing beside Zathaniel? Was there a connection of some sort? Djinjer bit her lip as Kim's father came bounding down the aisle. She even slumped down, hoping not to be noticed by him. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her, not even the people that sat beside her.

As more people filled in the pews in the room, Djinjer couldn't help but feel increasingly sick. And just as Mayor Gwen stated, it felt as though the wedding was taking absolutely forever to start. Finally, the room fell silent and the organist began to play. Her throat felt tight and her heart began hammering in her chest as the double doors opened. A small blonde girl walked out, spreading mixed flower petals along the floor. One young woman with dark hair walked out and immediately, Djinjer recognized her to be Tess Greymane. She was a beautiful young woman, but held absolutely none of the arrogance seen in most wealthy women.

Tears filled her eyes and this time, no matter how much she blinked, she couldn't hold them back. Kimberly walked slowly down the aisle on her father's arm, looking absolutely beautiful. To Djinjer, in that very moment, she was sure that there was no other woman in the entire world that was a fraction as beautiful as Kim was. Doing her best to look over the crowd of people, Djinjer watched as Kim stared into the eyes of her soon to be husband. They exchanged their vows. Kim cried. Zathaniel placed the ring on her finger…and that was that. They were now husband and wife.

Djinjer looked away, refusing to watch them share a very loving kiss. People stood, they cheered and clapped. The couple walked through the aisle, smiling and laughing…and not noticing her at all. Many people followed the two of them, and as Djinjer inched her way out of the Cathedral, she was suddenly yanked aside.

The Mayor winked at her and held Djinjer close to her. Of course no one would get in the way of the Greymane family, followed by dear Gwen Armstead. This, however, meant that Djinjer couldn't slip away from the festivities unnoticed. Instead, she was brought straight to a house nearby, which was composed of one large room with a set of stairs. Tables of food lined the wall, leaving the center empty for dancing. "Didn't think you were getting away that fast, did ya?" Armstead said quickly, and just as swift, disappeared into a large crowd again.

This left Djinjer standing in the doorway, being bumped and pushed as people flooded in. Everyone was immediately served wine or other drinks, but most stood in the empty space on the floor, congratulating the new couple, whom she couldn't see.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to the nearest chair at the nearest table and was-like everyone else-served a large goblet of wine. She kept her eyes on the table for the most part, slowly sipping at the wine. Djinjer heard someone clear their throat, but she didn't think anything of it. Then the person did it louder, and Djinjer slowly looked up to find the teal eyed Zathaniel smiling down at her. "I didn't recognize you at first. And forgive me for saying, especially how improper it is, but you do look absolutely wonderful, Djinjer."

"Th-thank you," she stammered out as she stood up. "So do you." She blushed, feeling like a moron for saying such a thing to him.

He chuckled. "I'm thrilled you came." She couldn't help but blink at him. Zathaniel seemed excited to be speaking to her. And just as she was going to ask if he was alright, Zathaniel took a quick look around him, snatched her hand and basically dragged her up the flight of stairs. "I have something for you," he explained as he led her into a room half way down the hall. "Kimberly said I really shouldn't but…" he sighed as they came to a stop and looked at her. "I just had to." He patted a large black box, that eerily resembled a coffin. "Open it."

"O-okay," she took a deep breath. "You really shouldn't have brought me up here," she said quickly. "What will people think-" Djinjer froze as he placed finger over her lips.

"You are Kim's dearest friend and now that they're married, you're a friend to me as well. Open it," he said softly, taking a step away from the box. She sighed irritably and nearly flung the top off and again, froze. This time, it felt as though she forgot to breathe. "Well?"

"I can't accept this!" she shrieked, slamming the top back down. Within the coffin-like box was the most gorgeous sword she had even seen. "It's not right!"

Zathaniel chuckled. "If I want to give one of my swords away, then I can do just that."

"But it's very improper! A new husband giving gifts to another woman, what-"

"will people think," he said in a mock high-pitched voice. "Just take it, Djinjer. I'm already _in_ the Gilneas army. I know what it takes to get in…and I can assure you, having a sword like this will benefit you more than you'll ever know."

"But they give out swords."

"To only those with weapons like your own. And even then, they're not much better than that lawn decoration of yours." He grinned. "Take it."

Djinjer sighed and opened the box again. "It's beautiful." The sword was a shining silver, engraved with what appeared to be a family crest. The handle was gold and absolutely spotless. She wondered how dingy she would have it in a few months. With another sigh, she trailed her fingers over the hilt. "Alright," she whispered. "Should I take it now?"

He chuckled again. "After the party. Right now, you should be enjoying yourself."

She forced out a smile for him and nodded. "Then we better head back downstairs before people start talking."

"You really ought to stop caring what people think or talk about. It's enough to drive a person mad." Without another word between the two of them, they made their way back downstairs. Djinjer took her seat again and Zathaniel returned to his position beside Kim, shooting a her a wink before turning back to his new father-in-law.

Djinjer let out a small yawn and leaned back in her chair, but immediately sprung up as something completely terrifying happened at that very moment. A rumbling ran through the house, catching the attention of everyone, yet it seemed as if no one was really sure it happened. Seeming too frightened to move, everyone stood there in silence. Perhaps they, like herself, was wondering if that really happened. Slowly, she and several others stood up, just as Kim whimpered out, "What was that?"

No one had time to answer. Djinjer let out a yelp of fear as everything began to shake violently. Immediately, people screamed out in fear, some cried, but most held each other tightly. Djinjer gasped loudly as she caught a tumbling candelabra. One man saw her action and quickly shouted out to others, whom braced what they could. Djinjer picked up on Kim's scream, and just as she looked over her shoulder, she saw Zathaniel yanked Kimberly out of the way of a falling chandelier.

And just like that, it was all over with.

The world suddenly became quiet, save for the screaming and crying of women and some children. Terrified, Djinjer felt as though she couldn't move. She placed the candelabra upright, ignoring the hot wax that was settling upon her neck and hands.

"I want every man outside, surveying the damages-if there are any. Report any casualties, any damages, any deaths. I also want some of you to notify others-especially messengers. We need to know how the other towns are fairing! Until then," Greymane looked around him, "I want everyone to wait in the cathedral park. I do not want house tumbling down on anyone."

Like everyone else, Djinjer made her way to the park. She, like some of the other women, stood at the entrance of the park, awaiting word from their men. Many women and children would join them, but still-there was no word from anyone else.

"Do you hear that?" shrieked a woman. "That was gunfire! Why would they need guns if-"

"Shh!" Djinjer shushed the woman, straining to hear this gunfire, but she needn't strain. The gunfire-though obviously no where near close-was loud and more than one shot. She spotted Liam Greymane on his horse, rushing across the square to the opposite side of town. It was then that Djinjer realized something was very, _very_ wrong.

Djinjer looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Kim's. Just from the look on her face, Djinjer knew what Kimberly was thinking: What if Zathaniel was hurt? As if knowing Djinjer knew her worries, she rushed over to her, throwing herself in Djinjer's arms. She sobbed loudly and hysterically…and for the first time that day, she was noticed by everyone. She expected the whispers to start. She expected for them to glare…but it seemed as if they somehow felt safer with Djinjer there, knowing her want to become a warrior. The silence of the women was quickly replaced by soft sobbing.

"Crying won't fix anything," said Mia Greymane as she approached Djinjer's side. "Best to keep good thoughts, right?" Kimberly nodded against her. "Chin up, ladies. We must remain strong."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** _This chapter begins to incorporate some of the quests seen in the actual Worgen starting zone. Of course as a writer, you can't have anything exactly like the game, so I've changed things up, but it's nothing terrible. For instance, Djinjer doesn't get to save JUST three civilians from their homes like in the quest. :3 I also jumped ahead many months from the last part of the fic. I hope it continues working out as smoothly as it is. But for now, this is it :D Enjoy the latest installation of Djinjer: A Worgen's Tale!  


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Djinjer stared down at the note attached to the box, which held the sword Zathaniel had given her. He apologized for not being able to deliver it himself, but had become quite busy within the Gilneas Army. Whatever was going on the city could no longer be ignored nor unnoticed, as it seemed to be spreading to other parts of Gilneas. Even their small towns now had curfews and strict laws to obey. Djinjer ran her fingers along the old note. She had gotten this boxed sword and its note months ago. She wondered how everything was going inside the city…and how Kim and Zathaniel's marriage was going. She hadn't really spoken to either of them since their wedding.

She placed the box on her bed, which was located beneath the stairs of their house. Quietly, she made her way to the window. Even in the dark, she could see that big ugly scar. Of all the places to be damaged significantly, why did it have to be Duskhaven?

The quakes were becoming normal, but they were no where near as strong as the second one they felt-the same one that caused the earth running right alongside her house to crack and split open. After Queen Mia Greymane calmed the women, one messenger returned. Announcing the damage done to Duskhaven at the top of his voice to the King, whom sat upon his own horse in the square, Djinjer had no problem hearing the bad news. Determined to go home and see it for herself, Djinjer ran out of the park, ignoring everyone calling out to her. She made it down one alley before being forcibly stopped-though it was an accident.

Prince Liam Greymane seemed to have come out of nowhere on his horse and unfortunately, she slammed smack dab into it, sending her crashing to the damp road. Were she not so worried about her family, she was certain she would have died from shame in that very moment. It wasn't often that the Prince apologized repeatedly, then got angry at her for not being safe, only to bring her back to the park on his horse. Djinjer wasn't worth of being spoken to by the Prince, let alone ride behind him on his horse.

She sighed softly against the cool window and slowly made her way back to bed. Djinjer quickly fell asleep. Tomorrow, she was going to Gilneas City, where she would see about joining the army. Finally, Djinjer had become of legal female age to join the army-at least for training. She would not be able to actually serve for another four to five years.

Morning came quickly. She gathered her few belongings, sheathed the sword Zathaniel had given her, and began the her trek to Gilneas City. No doubt she would be thoroughly fussed at by the guards, but Djinjer didn't mind. It would all be worth it.

For the first time in her life, Djinjer couldn't help but think the city looked gloomy and frightening, instead of beautiful. She carefully walked over the bridge, feeling nervous just crossing it with its many cracks and missing sidewalls. And as she walked into the gates, she didn't find the busy, active city she once knew and adored. Instead, the city was fairly empty. People peaked out of their windows from time to time, but there was hardly anyone on the streets.

Making her way to the barracks came as a bit of a shock to her, because no one really said anything to her. In fact, they didn't ask for her information or even how old she was. She was given initiate armor and pushed towards the barracks. Finding an empty bed was harder than she would have liked, especially considering most of them were occupied by men, but spying a curtain at the back of the room, Djinjer made her way over. The other girls nodded at her as they dressed. One girls sobbed softly while another comforted her, but no one paid her much attention. Was something going on that she didn't know about? Apparently so.

Djinjer quickly changed into her black mail armor, surprised that everything fit just right. "Nice sword," a husky brunette said. "Most of us were given these." She held up a dull looking sword. The blond woman sitting across from the brunette looked down at the sword resting against her bed. That one was bent and slightly rusted.

"I heard," said an aged woman, "that they're starting to run low on supplies."

"It doesn't matter," said the sobbing girl. "We'll never make it out of this alive. How can untrained soldiers protect their city and their people?"

"Hush up, you daft bird," said the husky woman. "Me dad's trained me in swords all me life. Never been interested in join' the army up until now. You saw the signs. 'Every eligible person,' and that's us."

"It's early yet," said the aged woman. "Think I'll go see my sister."

"You can leave the barracks?" A man peaked his head into the curtains.

"What if we were changing?" shouted the aged woman.

"You're not," he chuckled.

She huffed. "You can visit the other barracks and the mess hall until 5PM. After that, we are to stay in the barracks until notified. We're supposed to be starting patrols tonight, but who knows anymore."

"C'mon, you lot…let's have a look-see!" The few warrior women stood up from their beds and followed the husky woman out of the barracks. A few men followed as well. "Name's Aubrey, by the way," she said to the women with a smile.

"Nancy," said the teary eyed, frightened blonde.

"Beatrice," said the elderly woman.

"Darlene," said another.

They all turned their eyes upon her, "Djinjer," she said softly. Some of them nodded, the others looked away.

"There's the mess hall," Beatrice pointed to an old building that looked more like boarded up stables. "Mage, Rogue, Priest, Warlock, Druid, Hunter," she said as he pointed to the selected tents. "You'll notice anyone wearing something like _this_," she motioned to their armor, "are the new people. Anyone wearing full armor and decked out with weapons," she chuckled, "are obviously more important and higher ranked."

They became quiet as they passed the other tents. Djinjer bit her lip as she listened to a higher ranked rogue give orders to the lower ranks. Some of the warriors, she noticed, broke off to meet up with others whom merely stood around in groups, talking quietly. As the rest of the women dispersed, Djinjer was left walking alone, looking around, and wondering what in the world was going on. What was happening in their beloved city?

Djinjer looked up at the dark clouds. What time was it? When she left, it was close to seven in the morning, but the sky was so very dark. Djinjer sighed softly and looked back towards the tents. For a moment, she was wondered if this was all part of a horrible dream. It wasn't necessarily bad, but it wasn't good at all. But to make it all seem more like a dream, a very geared Zathaniel walked out of the hunter's tent with a black mastiff by his side. He stopped and patted the muscled dog. How long had it really been since she last saw him?

Had it been long enough for him to grow his hair out long enough for him to wear it parted and braided? He not only sported a thick goatee, but a glare as well. Whatever kindness she had seen in his eyes was no longer anywhere to be found. At least, until he saw her. His hardened expression softened immediately. He looked her over and grinned, "Glad you're putting that sword to good use." She nodded, not entirely certain as to what to say to him. "I was just about to grab some lunch. Join me?"

"S-sure," she said softly, following him closely with her head down. As soon as they entered the mess hall, Djinjer's suspicions of it being a stable seemed to be confirmed. Though there were no more horse stalls and not a strand of hay in sight, the faint aroma of horse manure lingered. There were three very long and wide tables on the first floor and it appeared there were some tables on the second as well.

Off to the left side of the "mess hall," there were pots and pans everywhere. Women were dashing to and fro cooking and stacking up plates, and from the small doorway, she could see teenagers washing dishing as fast as they could. She and Zathaniel got a plate and walked along the makeshift serving table. A glob of mashed potatoes was first slammed onto her plate. It horrified her to see it keep the shape of the spoon. And before she could even ask what was bubbling away in a brown sauce, a peace of meat was also put upon her plate, which somehow managed to soften the potatoes. Next were vegetables of all sorts as well as large domed breads. Finally, a small bowl was added to her plate, which held chocolate pudding.

Dazed by the confusion of this all, Djinjer followed Zathaniel to a table and sat across from him. "So," he grabbed up his knife and fork and began cutting the mystery meat. "How are things?"

She grabbed her fork and stared down at what looked like slop fit for pigs to eat. "Um…"

"It's not the best," he said, taking a bite, "but you get used to it."

For a moment, they ate in silence. She tasted everything and though it looked terrible, Zathaniel was right. It wasn't the best, but it wasn't _bad_ either. "What's going on here?" she asked, taking a sip from her tankard, which she was surprised to find was filled with delicious mead.

Zathaniel froze in mid bite. "Really?" he asked. Slowly he placed his fork down, "You don't know? Surely…" He chuckled. "You came here to join the army…and you were just thrown into this?"

"Yes," she answered, pulling her bread apart.

"And you really don't know?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be asking," the bread was quite good, too.

"Djinjer," he licked his lips. "The city is under attack. It's why we're here. The army just isn't enough to protect our people anymore." He sighed and returned to eating. "I don't need to get into details. You'll be informed tomorrow while you help with evacuations. Eat up, this stuff doesn't stay warm forever."

Djinjer quickly began eating her food, and even when her stomach complained of being full, she kept eating. From the sounds of it, something big was happening and how was she to be certain when she would eat again? Swallowing a large amount of vegetables, she asked, "How's Kimberly?"

Zathaniel froze again, but this time it was only for a split second, then he swallowed the food in his mouth. "You don't know?"

"Apparently I don't know a lot of things," Djinjer murmured, sensing something was wrong.

He chuckled. "She's a real piece of work," but he wasn't directing that towards her. He sighed, mopped up some gravy, potatoes, and a bit of meat with his bread and chucked it into his mouth. "Kim told me you didn't care for my company, that's why you never visited us." A cold feeling washed over Djinjer, "She disappeared a lot and I just assumed she was visiting you. Tell me, Djinjer, did she visit you _at all_ after our wedding?" Djinjer shook her head, and Zathaniel chuckled again, but it seemed bitter.

"It didn't seem like you to not show up _just_ because you didn't like me, but I figured she knew you better and so I stayed away. And just as my note said, I've been quite busy…especially lately. I'm at least happy you received it. Well…" He shrugged, "After a couple is married, their main focus is usually children, correct?"

Djinjer's stomach began to bubble. She hoped it was from the food she was eating and it wasn't the sickening thought that Kim refused to have children with him. Kim always said she never wanted them. "Right," Djinjer replied.

"Kimberly didn't want them." Just as she thought. But was he really the type of guy to leave his wife just for that reason? "Her parents and _my_ parents pressured her to have one. But…" he sighed, "she couldn't carry one. When I asked her if she did something to the baby, she became hysterical and threw me out. And then," he sighed again, this time seeming even more depressed, "everything started to fall apart. Kimberly wanted a divorce…and honestly, I should have been hurt by that. I should have been hurt by the fact that she had a new beau after a week of us being separated," Djinjer couldn't believe what she was hearing, "but I wasn't. I can't blame our marriage falling apart solely on her. I had my part in it as well."

"How?"

"I didn't love her." He chuckled and picked up the small bowl of pudding. "I shouldn't have married her. I mean, I cared a lot about her. I thought I was in love with her when her father pressured me into proposing, but then I met someone else and," he shrugged. "I never acted on those feelings. I ignored them and focused on Kim. But I think she knew my heart never really belonged to her."

"So…you're divorced now?"

"Not yet. Just separated. Her parents are hoping we can fix our troubles, but I could never accept her again, not after when she's shared our bed with her new beau. I'm giving her the house and anything she wants in it. Honestly, I just want to be free from her."

"That's…awful." Djinjer poked at her pudding with her spoon. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said softly. "Besides, I learned a lot from her. You know, she told me the truth about you on our wedding night."

Horrified, Djinjer couldn't help but stare at him, frozen. He didn't laugh or look angry. Instead, he smirked devilishly and said, "I _still _don't believe it. I mean, it's true, I understand that. But…something's off about you."

"I don't know if that's a good thing or not," she laughed nervously and quickly began spooning the pudding into her mouth.

He shrugged. "I have to ask a favor of you."

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow…please see to it personally that Kim evacuates the town. I do care about her, despite everything she's done."

"Sure," Djinjer smiled. She sighed softly, "Well, at least we have a little more in common."

He grinned again, "Both been burned by the same devil of a woman."

She meant to defend Kim…but in the moment, she couldn't help but laugh. "Zathaniel? Before you go…"

"Yes?"

"Are you happier with the other woman?"

He shrugged again. "I wouldn't know. I'm not with her." She wanted to ask more, but Zathaniel stood up. "Just leave your plates here. The kids clean after us. It was good speaking with you. C'mon, Brutus." How could she have not noticed the large dog sitting beside her? He followed Zathaniel out of the hall and with a wave, Zathaniel was gone.

Slowly, Djinjer stood up and made her way out of the dining hall. For a long time, she pined over Kimberly…and now she was suddenly grateful their relationship had ended. Djinjer would rather lose Kimberly all together than see her change for the worse. But losing Zathaniel? Even Djinjer knew that was a stupid move on Kim's part. Zathaniel was kind and very caring. Was it possible his failed relationship with Kim changed him? Was that where the cold glare came from? Djinjer didn't want to think about it….

That afternoon, while Djinjer was attempting to rest, everyone was called out of their tents in a panic. They were told to stand next to their selected Class and to listen, because what they were about to be told would matter if they wished to survive. They were told to get their weapons and be prepared to fight to the death. They were told to stick together as much as possible. Being alone meant you were vulnerable. The last thing they were told was to obey and follow all commands, as it would also increase their chances of living.

At first, she thought it was a drill. After getting a good look at everyone around her, however, she knew that this was the real thing.

Many of the groups were paired up by commanders in a hurry. Some groups were put together by class, others were two or more of the same class. Djinjer ended up with Aubrey, which wasn't too bad, but considering it was only the two of them while other groups had five or more, it was a bit concerning.

As if the city wasn't gloomy enough, soft rain began pouring from the blackened clouds. "C'mon, Djinjer! Don't just stand around lookin' daft."

"Coming," Djinjer said, running to catch up to her partner. As soon as they entered the town square, Djinjer found many soldiers lined up, receiving orders from Prince Liam. The Prince, looking as dapper as ever, sat upon his horse, calling out to the soldiers before him, "Stand ready, guards!" He shouted. "We don't know how many intruders we're dealing with, but the Headlands are overrun and we're cut off from the harbor towns. Expect to be outnumbered!"

She and Aubrey quickly fell into formation, their swords gripped tightly in their hands. "I want the perimeter secured and gates manned by two guards at all times. No one get in, no one gets out!" Djinjer couldn't help but look around. None of the initiates seemed as though they should be there. Many looked worried, doubtful, and some were downright terrified. "We protected Gilneas from the Scourge. We protected Gilneas during the Northgate rebellion. We will protect Gilneas from whatever this new threat may be!" He was silent as he looked at the soldiers.

"Many of you have fought before, but most of you have not. I want the _initiates_ on this side," he motioned towards the initiates where she stood, "to begin the evacuations. _Hurry_! We do not know how much time we have left! Protect our citizens until you take your final breath!"

Djinjer stood there for a moment, not entirely certain what to do. Many of the other initiates ran in different directions, pounding on doors. "You there," the voice of the Prince being directed towards her startled her. "Find Lieutenant Walden. He'll give you further directions for evacuation."

Djinjer ran in a random direction, not entirely certain where to even begin looking for this Lieutenant Walden. Around her, many of the initiates were gathering up citizens and bringing them together. "Walden!" Djinjer shouted repeatedly, in hopes that someone would perk up and reply.

"Lieutenant Walden!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Walden was last seen making his way to the gates! Look for him near the evacuation gates!" Djinjer spun around, running as fast as her legs could carry her, which didn't feel very fast at all. Perhaps she felt slow because of the heavy armor, or maybe it was because of the panic surging through her veins. She sped around corners so fast that the often slid upon the sleek cobblestone of the roads. And finally, she took one last turn before she found the first evacuation gate.

The gate barely moved in the wind, but moved enough to make an eerie screeching sound. The other gate seemed firmly locked. Lying before it, covered in a flock of birds, was Lieutenant Walden. He hardly looked human, what with such deep claw marks disfiguring every part of him.

Djinjer gasped as her head snapped around at the sound of gunfire. There was shouting and the sound of battle coming from the square. Her heart felt as though it was about to hammer through her chest, especially after she caught a glimpse of something moving quickly in the shadows. Gripping her sword even tighter, Djinjer ran even quicker through the alleyways until she came upon the market square.

Before she could even get a good look at what was going on, Prince Liam approached her, his sword and pistol in his hands. "Did you find Walden?"

Djinjer shook her head, "He's dead!" Her voice sounded hysterical!

The Prince cursed, looked over his shoulder, and quickly looked back to her. "We need you out there! There are worgen everywhere! _Worgen_!" She knew the word from the countless stories her parents told her when she was younger. Never before had she truly believed in them. She hadn't had a reason to believe in them! "My father had warned me that Archmage Arugal's creations had run amok, but where are they coming from? Do your best to make quick work of them, soldier, and while you're at it, make sure _all_ homes are evacuated! All civilians must join my father in the Prison District!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Your name."

"Sir?"

"What's your name, girl?"

"Djinjer!"

"Show those foul beasts what we Gilneans are made of, Djinjer!"

Djinjer gave him a quick salute before running further into the market square. And absolutely _no words_ could describe the horror she felt as she saw her comrades fighting face to face with beasts that belonged only in nightmares. As she locked eyes on a worgen, straight across from her, its head snapped up. It looked around at her, snorted, and let out a roar that shook her to the bones. Djinjer held her sword out, bracing herself for the attack she knew was bound to come. It roared again as it came bounding at her and Djinjer let out a roar of her own. She swung her sword, dodged its attacks and sliced through its thickened skin with ease.

It pounced on her, forcing her onto her back, but Djinjer wasn't about to let it get the upper hand. She quickly dug her feet into its abdomen and shoved as hard as she could. The worgen went soaring, and quickly, Djinjer got to her feet. As soon as it hopped back onto its hind legs, Djinjer charged it, attacking it even faster and more ferocious than before. Finally, she drove her sword deep into its chest and just as quickly, removed it. As the worgen fell to the ground, Djinjer realized something: this was what she was made for.

Djinjer continued in the direction she was originally heading in when she came to another stop. With her back to the wooden merchant booths and holding a grand rapier, Mayor Gwen stood in the midst of the battle. Djinjer ran up to her beloved Mayor, which nearly ended with her eye getting stabbed out. "Sorry," Mayor Gwen breathed out. "I don't even know how to use this weapon…but I reckon if I stand here looking menacing, the worgen might go somewhere else. And if they don't, then I'll die fighting them!"

"Mayor, please! You should go to the Prison District! King Genn is there…he'll be able to protect you and the others."

"No, Djinjer! I won't go until I know everyone is safe! There are still people in those houses! I already have other initiates collecting supplies before they're destroyed. You have to save those citizens before worrying about me! Now _go_!"

Djinjer didn't want to leave her Mayor behind, but with a firm look and a whack to Djinjer's thigh with the rapier, the Mayor sent her on her way. Djinjer pounded on the doors of the near by homes and nearly every time, a citizen would peak through their curtains, then come bounding for the doors. "Get to the Prison District!" she would shout, and sometimes passing initiates would gather up the citizens. Other times, citizens would merely cover their heads and run as fast as they could.

But they were too late. _She_ was too late. Some of the doors to the houses were adorned with deep grooves made from the extremely sharp claws of the worgen. What she found in them made her stomach churn, and twice, she was able to ensue her vengeance. All the while, however, Djinjer was making her way to one house in particular, and with each minute that passed without her being at that house, she felt even more terrified.

Her heart pounding in her ears, her muscles already sore, Djinjer finally approached the house she was looking for. From the looks of it, it appeared untouched. She turned the large doorknob and pushed open the door. Everything was dark. "Kimberly!" she shouted. "It's me, Djinjer!" But she could only hear the sounds of the battle taking place. Everything looked so very different, now that the room wasn't essentially empty, as it had been for Zathaniel and Kim's reception.

Djinjer quickly made her way up stairs, calling out her ex-lover's name again. She listened, but didn't hear a sound. "Kimberly!" she shouted again, her panic steadily increasing. As she continued walking down the hallway of the second floor, an incredible stench caught her attention. She stopped outside of double doors and immediately, her heart sank. Deep grooves covered the doors…and though she hadn't really saw where Zathaniel had taken her, she knew these doors.

Djinjer pushed them open. It was Zathaniel's personal weaponry. The dying fire barely lit the room, but she didn't need a lot of light to see the blood splattered walls or the glistening, bloodied floor. She didn't even need to look at the two bodies that the worgen was hunched over to know it was Kimberly's parents. "Djin…jer," said a soft whisper. Something painful seemed to rush through her chest and all she could do to release that painful feeling was scream. Tears blurred her vision as she swung and stabbed, until the worgen landed heavily on the floor with a groan.

Djinjer dropped her sword, stumbling over to the one person that she loved most. She scooped her ex-lover's body into her arms, surveying the wounds. Kimberly kept her hands over her abdomen to keep her entrails from seeping out of her. "I'm sorry," Kimberly whispered. "I'm so sorry. He…turned into that beast. Tell Zath…I'm sorry…" Kimberly exhaled and didn't move again.

Gasping, Djinjer slowly placed Kimberly back down. She shook her head, tears blurring her vision again. She couldn't stop herself from shaking. She couldn't accept this. Every special moment of their relationship ran through her mind: the first time their eyes met, the first time they held hands, their first kiss. She could see Kimberly running through the shallow waters of the beach, her hair being blown in every direction. Kimberly threw herself at Djinjer, placing a loving kiss upon her lips. "I love you, Djinjer! I always will. Forever and always!"

Djinjer slammed her fists on the bloody floor as tears streamed down her face. "KIMBERLY!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** _Not going to lie. Each time I see Crowley in game or there's a quest about him, I let out a Ozzy imitation of "Mr. Crowwwwley! Dun dun duuun! What went down in yooour head?" I hope I'm not the only one that does that haha! Anyway...__I apologize for any mistake in this. I wrote this chapter today in only a short time. I read over it once but...I don't think I caught everything. If there's one thing I've noticed being a writer, it's that a writer will often not notice their mistakes because they know what they meant :3 Huzzah! So if there's any mistakes, I apologize!_

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It was hard to focus on anything as she finally stumbled out of the house. A surging hatred filled Djinjer as she eyed the beasts around her. Every single one of them were engaged in combat with at least _two_ soldiers. Initiates dashed between the fights with citizens either in their arms or following them closely. "Djinjer!" she heard her name being called from a distance.

"Djinjer!" Pushing citizens to follow a brute of a warrior and what looked like a priest, Beatrice turned around, rising up onto her tiptoes. She waved both of her arms in the air. "Djinjer!"

It was hard to move…to leave Kimberly and her parents behind. But what could she do? Protect three dead bodies while living people were in danger? She didn't know what pushed her to run over to Beatrice, but she was grateful when she did. Beatrice spoke quickly, "All initiates have Royal Orders to head to the Military District and check in with Gwen Armstead once we cross the bridge. Prince Liam is going to stay behind with the soldiers. We have to hurry, Djinjer."

Djinjer only nodded, and the two of them continued along the same path as the warrior, priest, and few citizens. "There they are," Beatrice said as they quickly made their way down the steps leading to the bridge. As soon as they crossed it, the Mayor turned around, sighing in relief. She first approached the warrior and priest, telling them, "The King's men will protect us. We're almost there now. Djinjer…tell me that's not your blood."

"No, Mayor," she replied softly.

"Good." She cleared her throat. "Most of us made it here alive…but there are worgen here on this side of the city as well. We're going to continue heading south once everyone is accounted for…there's another group on the way. Also, the three of you should seek out your class advisers: Cleese, Sister Almyra." She turned to the other initiates, "Seek out your advisers," she said to new arrivals as well.

"Never met Cleese," Djinjer said quietly.

"He's a distinguished warrior. Just follow me," Beatrice said as she moved forward. Though the initiates walked together, they walked quickly-with their weapons drawn and readied.

They came upon a small group of soldiers, some already had initiates around them, and with a glance over her shoulder, she saw even more initiates on their way. "Ready your swords!" Beatrice called out, pointing to their Sergeant. Other initiates fought off what worgen they could, but most didn't even seem to know how to swing a sword. Djinjer suddenly felt renewed strength in watching her comrades fight. These people, as untrained as they were, were fighting with everything they could.

Even the tearful blonde was fighting, although she probably would have done more damage with a chair than that sword. Djinjer realized that now was not the time to mourn. Now was the time to fight and protect those whom were lucky enough to live! Charging into the mayhem with Beatrice and the other warrior, the three of them made the worgen here outnumbered. If you asked her how they had managed to slay all of the worgen, Djinjer couldn't tell you. It was all a blur. Swords swinging in every direction, dodging swiping, clawed hands and teeth sharp enough to make daggers.

"We don't have much time," the Sergeant said. "They come in waves, initiates. I'm glad you're all alive," he said, eyeing them. "I must have done something right if most of you made it back alive. Unfortunately, not everyone has…and not everyone will make it back." His eyes fell upon Djinjer. "I haven't seen you before, but I've seen that sword. House of Gilneau?"

Djinjer blanched. "It was a gift from-"

"Zathaniel," the Sergeant sighed as he shook his head. "Boy needs to keep his heirlooms closer." He cleared his throat. "What's your name, girl?"

"Djinjer," she replied.

"I may not have trained you, but your skill is admirable. Now, however," he said a bit louder, looking out around him, "it's time you all learn another skill. These worgen are not so bad if _you_ get the upper hand. Let me demonstrate. Djinjer, brace yourself." Djinjer barely had time to plant her feet into the ground when the Sergeant slammed into her. "_Always_ hold your sword at your opposite side. When you make contact, you will go through with an upwards, backwards swing. Understand?" Didn't seem many of them did. "Look, the worgen knew we needed practice dummies. Ready yourself!"

Though four worgen hopped down from the rooftops, the Sergeant charged them just as he had charged Djinjer, only he demonstrated exactly how to use the skill with the sword. It was simple enough, or so she thought. Four worgen weren't enough for the initiates there, and many of them ended up hitting the same one at the same time. Djinjer's arm had gotten pinned by that large warrior, sending her shoulder slamming into the mouth of the worgen. Luckily, it didn't damage her.

With their chance to learn essentially ruined, Djinjer and the others continued to attack normally, though their Sergeant seemed to get a good laugh out of it. "Now try out this technique on the worgen as you make your way south to the King. Our civilians need safe passage!"

Djinjer and the others did as they were told, but were also joined by other classes. Together, the worgen didn't seem to stand a chance.

Many soldiers stood behind a grayed man on his pale white horse. Another man, whom Djinjer didn't quite recognize, also sat upon a horse, speaking closely with the King. As they approached, the King turn his attention on all of them. "You've all done well in coming here," the King said to them. "If we Gilneans stick together, we might just defeat this terrible enemy! Your next task may raise questions and doubt within my judgment, but I beseech every single one of you to follow my command."

He moved his horse around to face them head on, "You," a priest was pointed at, "you," so was a hunter, "and _you_." Djinjer's heart dropped into her stomach. "Step forward. The rest of you-join the other soldiers in battle. Do your best to _stick together_ and help one another! The worgen are flooding in!" The initiates ran past them into the open court before them, joining the other soldiers in fighting off the worgen. Djinjer's heart went out to them. There were so many of the enemy!

"The three of you will listen to me very closely," this caught Djinjer's attention, "Lord Darius Crowley has been called many things: Rebel, traitor, terrorist. Before the civil war, I called him…friend. I never blamed him for leading an insurrection against me. His land and people were separated from Gilneas by a stone wall…but we had no choice." He gave each of them a hard look before continuing, "Regardless…. Crowley is exactly the type of person we need now. I want the three of you to enter the Stoneward Prison and ask Captain Broderick about Crowley's whereabouts. I'd send my own men, but I fear there's still bad blood."

The other man scoffed, "We ought to leave Crowley in prison with those beasts."

"Godfrey," the King glared at the other man.

"Fine by me if King Greymane wants you to risk your life to rescue a known traitor. But do _Lord_ Godfrey a favor while you're out there and kill these cursed fleabags." Djinjer gave her own glare to the other man, but together the three of them made their way through the mayhem of the battle going on just outside of the prison.

"This way!" the male priest called out.

The hunter pushed past her to get to the door quickly, which meant it was her backside that was vulnerable to attack. She couldn't blame him for his action. She _was_, after all, the only one wearing mail. "King Greymane wishes to know the whereabouts of Lord Crowley!" said the priest loudly.

"What?" Captain Broderick was standing upon the stairs of the tower, his sword and shield in hand. "Greymane wants to save Crowley? Has he gone mad?" But before either of them could actually think of answering, the Captain added in, "I don't understand why the king wants to waste time saving his hide, but if you want to risk your life, then be my guest." He moved aside on the stairs and said, "Crowley and his men are holed up upstairs, probably plotting against the king as we speak!"

"Thank you," the priest said as the three of them quickly made their way up the spiraling stairs. "Where _are _they?" she heard him say loudly.

"How about moving aside so we can get through!" the hunter snapped out. With an irritated sigh, the priest moved, allowing them to reach the rooftop. "You honestly couldn't see them?" the hunter said pointing to the right. Djinjer looked out in the direction he pointed. It was hard even for her to see the men through the tall and thick steel gates. Instead of the priest leading the way, the hunter took off at a medium paced jog.

Darius Crowley, or whom she expected was Darius Crowley, was standing completely shirtless in front of a collapsed man. Another was knelt down beside him while the final had a piece of wood in his hand with bloodied nails sticking out of it. Not far from them were dead worgen, but it almost appeared as though they died at the feet of Darius Crowley and as kicked against the opposite wall.

Before they could say anything, Crowley called out to them, "One of those mangy fleabags got Dempsey real good. We cannot move him until we stabilize his bleeding. Give us a hand holding back these mongrels. A couple of minutes is all we need, brothers!" Djinjer didn't have time to be insulted.

The hunter grabbed her by the back of her neck, forcing her to bend over as he shot a worgen that was a short distance behind her. When she stood up, Crowley gave her a look that plainly said, "What the hell are you doing here?" followed by a grin that made her feel as if she was standing there naked. "Tobias! There's more coming from the north!"

Ignoring the obvious belief that she didn't belong there, Djinjer turned her back to the men, preparing for whatever she would face…which was more than she thought she would go up against, that's for sure! At least a dozen worgen were coming in this direction and apparently, the number was around the same for the other side. Holding off over twenty worgen at a time was a bit more taxing than she first thought it would be. She had just barely missed fatal attacks, which were far too many "almosts" for her to be content with. And even though she fought nonstop since the first worgen came close to them, Djinjer couldn't help but admire Crowley. Shirtless, with only his fists as weapons, Crowley managed to do more harm to the worgen than anyone else. It definitely brought a literal meaning to "cracking some skulls," but once it was over with (which felt as though it took a year) Djinjer was very relieved. No one but the priest, unfortunately, was hurt.

"It's okay," he said. "Only a dislocated shoulder," he murmured. Even if he held his hand over his shoulder, Djinjer could still see the blood seeping through his white robes.

"What are you three doing here?" Crowley asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

"We were sent by King Greymane to rescue you. It's complete mayhem down there. I don't know why, but he needs you and we don't have much time." The hunter shot her a glare, as if _she_ was the one slowing them down.

"Listen, you three. For the first time since the civil war I agree with Greymane. Now is the time to put aside our quarrel, because he could my help and my men. It sure doesn't look like these beasts care much whether you're a rebel or a royal. Send word back to Greymane. My men will join his." The hunter and priest were already on the move when Crowley directed towards her, not them, "There's a safe house not far from here. In Josiah's cellar, my lads stashed some heavy artillery. Tell our king that my arsenals are now at his disposal. Go on, girl, before you're left behind."

Djinjer gave him a nod and turned to join the other three, moving past them. Now was not the time to walk or feel tired, regardless of how late into the night it was getting. The jogged to keep up with her, but the three of them weren't ready to see what waited before them just outside of the prison. Many of the initiates, whom had rushed into battle, now lie dead on the ground. Their bodies were trampled upon by worgen and soldiers alike.

"Don't stop to look," said the Captain. "Move on, _soldiers_."

Now feeling the surge of adrenaline pumping through their veins, the three of them stepped out into the court. It was truly up to Djinjer to get both of them back to the king. Sure, a ranged weapon was nice, but it didn't exactly help when a worgen charged them faster than the hunter could pull the trigger. Djinjer shoved her foot into the worgen's chest, kicking it away from them. "Get back to the king!" she shouted. "I'll catch up!"

"I won't leave you alone!" the hunter shouted, firing his gun beside her. "Remember what the king told us! Stick together! We're stronger together than apart!"

It was hard to hold a grudge against him after that. Together, they worked their way through three more worgen before reaching the king again. Unfortunately, while the other two reported to the King, she managed to get approached by Lord Godfrey. "If I hadn't seen you kill a few of those mangy things with my own eyes, I'd think you did not complete the task I asked of you. Very well," he said, sounding almost disappointed. "It looks as if we're barely putting a dent in their numbers."

With Lord Godfrey falling silent, Djinjer approached the king, but not before noticing the priest limping way to Sister Almyra. "It's unnerving that artillery was smuggled inside of the city by enemies, yet it might end up saving Gilnean lives today. The building Crowley speaks of is just west of here, owned by Josiah Avery. We will put the weapons to good use."

The hunter nodded at her, and together they headed west. "How are we to find this building?" he asked. "There are many with cellars."

"Hush," she said softly. "Do you hear that?" Though the town was eerily quiet at the moment, Djinjer could make out the sounds of a man's muffled yells.

"It's coming from over there," the hunter whispered. Gun and sword ready, both of them made their way around a house, finding exactly what they were looking for: a cellar. "You go in," he said, "I'll stand guard outside."

"Alright," she said softly, grabbing onto the doors' handles. As soon as she opened the cellar doors, she heard murmuring from within. "I think this is the one."

"Good," said the hunter, turning his back to her. Djinjer didn't waste anymore time heading into the cellar. But as soon as she entered it, she couldn't help but wonder how all of this could have been smuggled into the city unnoticed. The room was filled with cannons and their respective ammunition. There were boxes stacked up in the furthest corner with "EXPLOSIVES" written all over them and just opposite of them was whom she suspected was Josiah Avery.

"My face," he murmured, "What's wrong with my face!" He trembled violently. "I can't fight it."

Djinjer slowly approached the man, "Josiah?"

"Don't look at me! Leave me alone!" he pulled away from her, inching himself further into the corner. "My hands," he whimpered, "Don't look at my hands."

"What's wrong?" she asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. Djinjer immediately regretted it. It felt as if something was moving beneath his skin and just as she took a step back, the man threw himself onto his tiptoes, "The pain is unbearable!" he roared out, and suddenly, there was no longer a man standing there.

Djinjer let out a scream as he slashed at her, knocking her to the ground. She looked into his crazed eyes, not seeing an ounce of human left in this beast. With a growl, the worgen lurched at her. With a single, echoing shot, the worgen fell backwards, slamming into the very wall that he had been cowering against. "Good shot, hunter," Djinjer breathed out.

"I'm no hunter," said a very feminine voice.

Djinjer quickly got to her feet, but stumbled until she slammed into the other wall. "Here," the brunette woman walked forward, handing her a handkerchief. "You're bleeding."

Djinjer didn't need to ask where. The wound was stinging where his claws had sunk into her flesh. She held the pink handkerchief to the crook of her neck and shoulder, meeting the ashamed gaze of her partner. "She heard us outside," he began to explain. "I didn't know you were in danger."

"He turned into one of them…didn't he?" the woman asked as she nudged the body with her foot. "How do we even begin to fight an enemy that can do this to us?" She sighed and turned her hazel eyes upon Djinjer. "Name's Lorna Crowley. My father's arsenal is certainly a good start in winning this war, I suppose."

She then turned her eyes upon the hunter, "We're going to need to clear the way ahead if we're going to move these canons above ground. Where's your mastiff?"

For the first time ever, it occurred to her that the hunter _was_ missing his faithful companion…and since she first lay eyes upon him, she saw a young boy, not yet a man, tear up. "I lost him in the first fight," he said softly, his voice wavering. "There was nothing I could do."

Lorna walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I want both of you to take one of the mastiff's outside. Keep them close. Worgen are hiding in the alleyways ahead. It's almost as if they're always one step ahead of us. My mastiff's are larger than the others. Some hunters left their companions with me, for protection."

Lorna, Djinjer thought, was an odd woman. First of all, the woman was far too calm for Djinjer's likes…but considering who her father was…

Still, wearing an expensive dress, her hair in curls with a red rose adorning it, she was the last person you'd expect carrying around a rifle. Lorna looked over her shoulder, "Are you well enough to return to battle?" Djinjer removed the handkerchief. "Good. The bleeding has already stopped. Get out there, soldier."

Djinjer pushed off of the wall and immediately, the world began spinning. She blinked and shook her head, which straightened her vision. She and the hunter walked up the wooden steps outside of the alley and sure enough, there was a large group of mastiffs waiting. There were only two that were much larger than the others, both were a different shade of brown, but there was one, whom sat still, staring at her. Despite sitting still, his tail wagged uncontrollably. She turned away from him, but a whine made her look back at him. The dog had inched forward and let out a sneeze, as if begging her to choose him.

"Come, girl," the hunter patted his knee and the large light brown mastiff joined his side. Djinjer turned to the other brown one, whom looked at her as if she were some sort of stupid creature irritating him. Again, the black mastiff inched forward, letting out another sneeze. "I think that one likes you."

"But you heard her, these two are hers. I'd hate to take a hunter's pet-"

"Just take him," the hunter said. "We'll return once the alley is cleared."

Djinjer nodded. "Come, b-" the dog ran up to her, pouncing on her, which in her current state wasn't the best thing to do. The hunter laughed but said nothing…and as Djinjer looked at the dog, she saw it's name engraved upon the golden tag. "Brutus," she whispered. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears and she _knew_ she had to push forward.

They walked together in silence, but it was apparent the hunter was in his element. She took a page out of his book and withdrew her weapon, following him closely. It wasn't a secret that Djinjer was awful at tracking anything. "You smell it, girl?" he said to the dog. As if replying, the dog let out a whine, as did Brutus. "Get it!" he shouted.

The dogs rushed forward to the corner, where Djinjer saw absolutely nothing. But out of the darkness jumped a worgen, clear over the mastiffs. The hunter, whom she realize was still nameless to her, took aim and fired _twice_ before the mastiffs attached themselves upon the heels of the worgen. Djinjer took this as her queue and charged the worgen, finishing him off. "Behind you!" the hunter called and Djinjer spun around, swinging her sword. She sliced the worgen's hands and just that wound caused the worgen to stall enough for the hunter to fire.

Her stomach churned as the brains of the worgen splattered against the opposite wall, but she didn't have time to focus on that. The mastiffs were attacking another worgen, which the hunter had already begun to shoot at. Instead of attacking the dogs or even the hunter, it launched itself at her. Though its claws didn't make contact with her, it slammed its hand hard against the side of her head. She crashed to the road, but immediately recovered, jabbing her sword upwards into the abdomen of the worgen. "We're being surrounded!" the hunter shouted.

A whistle rang through the night, which caught the black mastiff's attention. "Brutus!" Djinjer shouted, but the dog had already vanished around the corner they had just turned.

The other mastiff jumped clear over her, throwing itself into another dark corner. Djinjer saw their eyes before the worgen appeared. It batted aside the dog and with a click, panic suddenly filled the air. "I'm…I'm out of bullets," the hunter whimpered. "There's _three_ of them!"

Djinjer got to her feet, gripping her sword. She cast a glance at her partner, whom suddenly appeared less confident, clutching the axe that hadn't moved from his back since she met him. "Just swing blindly if you don't know how to use that thing," she said to him. The three of them started sniffing in her direction, but after a moment, their eyes all moved to the hunter, whom paled and dropped his axe. "No!" Djinjer shouted. All three worgen suddenly dashed towards the hunter and she had no other choice but to push her body to its very limits. She slammed into the hunter, sending the three worgen skidding on all fours.

"Stay behind me!" she shouted at the hunter, whom quickly took refuge behind a stone well. No longer concerned with sniffing her, the largest of the three took no time at all in attacking her. It was going well, until the second one joined in. The third seemed to be calculating if it could get to the hunter before she would notice what it was up to. Looking at that worgen proved to be a very bad decision. She heard the clang of her sword hitting the nearby building before she processed what had happened. Her sword had been knocked out of her hand.

The first natural reaction was to panic, but the second natural reaction…was to react. Mimicking Darius Crowley, Djinjer slammed her fist into the worgen that launched itself at her. It stumbled backwards, shaking his head and unfortunately, something inside Djinjer changed. The world began spinning again. Was there three worgen or six? Why did she feel so _hot_? The other worgen batted her, much like the first had, but this time, when Djinjer slammed into the road, she knew she wouldn't be getting up. She knew if she couldn't get her hands on her sword, she and the hunter were done for and at the moment, no matter how much she blinked, she just couldn't see her sword.


	5. Chapter 5

**MAJOR NOTE: **_This is the updated version of the chapter. I didn't exactly go through and heavily edit it, I just edited the part at the end, with Lord Godfrey. Originally, I mistook Godfrey for being King Greymane, so I used him in that section by mistake :3 Regardless, enjoy!_

Djinjer had accepted her fate. There was no way, with feeling so bizarre, that she could protect herself or the young hunter. The image of his horrified face crossed her thoughts; he couldn't be more than seventeen. Djinjer let out a groan as she strained to lift herself from the street. Blood poured from her eyebrow onto the jagged road. Perhaps she was going to die, but she would die fighting.

A shot rang through the night, followed by a howl. Had the hunter found ammunition? But that didn't sound like a rifle. There were several more shots, one worgen fell dead just in front of her. On her knees, Djinjer looked over her shoulder at her savior. Djinjer's heart suddenly trembled. Brutus walked calmly beside his master. Zathaniel, on the other hand, looked like a force not to be reckoned with. The largest worgen had its hand over a wound and obviously out of bullets, a very pissed off looking Zathaniel slipped his pistols into their holsters under his arms; matching swords were sheathed at his hips. Zathaniel pulled a large rifle from his back at the same time the worgen began charging him. One shot was all it took for the worgen to drop, deader than a doornail.

Zathaniel continued walking, stepping over the worgen bodies. When Zathaniel told her he was in the army…this ferocious man was not what she expected out of him. He stared down at her, his eyes locked on the wound at her neck. His eyes closed and quietly, he cursed. "Lorna said a female warrior was attacked. I prayed it wasn't you."

Djinjer thought of something that she shouldn't have. It was stupid to think of such a thing at a time like this, but it was a split second sort of thought. Zathaniel left behind Brutus with Lorna. Sure, he wasn't the only one, but he did say he had fallen for someone…and Lorna sure was beautiful. Was Lorna his secret love? Deciding to lighten the mood and show some thanks, Djinjer chirped out, "Well, you know me, I like to disappoint."

The light hearted humor seemed to ignite the anger in his eyes. He grabbed a hold of her arm and yanked her up to her feet. "You're ill. You shouldn't even bet out here. Where's this _hunter_ you were with?" Djinjer didn't need to answer him. The hunter slowly crawled out from behind the well and at the same time, a few others began making their way along the alley, their weapons drawn. Djinjer swayed, but steadied herself as Zathaniel stormed towards the other hunter.

"You're supposed to protect your partner!" he roared out, slamming his fist into the initiates face. "A real man does not _cower_ in the face of danger," another punch, "Were you just going to listen to her get killed?!" Djinjer didn't watch as he hit the boy again.

A man wearing a brown coat and matching top hat, as well as a male rogue, a female rogue, and Sister Almyra all ran past her. "Stop it!" the Sister screamed out.

The man in the brown coat wrapped his arms under Zathaniel's, pulling him away from the initiate while the male rogue pulled aside the bleeding teenager. "Now is not the time to fight between ourselves!" shouted the female rogue.

"He's an initiate, Gilneau! He is not a soldier! Calm yourself!"

"It's to be expected in such high stress situations such as these," said another priest of high status. "We're all exhausted and we're all frightened, no matter how much we say we aren't. We don't have time for petty squabbles! We need to press on!"

Djinjer gasped as a loud explosion rang through the city. "Don't be frightened, girl. It's just the cannons." Sister Almyra said, running her glowing hands over the boy's face. The two rogues continued to stand in front of the initiate while Zathaniel was still being clutched onto by the brown coat man. The Sister quickly made her way over to Djinjer, healing the wound on her eyebrow, but her eyes fell upon the same wound Zathaniel's had. "I'm sorry," she said, walking away from Djinjer. She stooped, and picked up the sword Djinjer couldn't seem to locate.

With her vision straight, Djinjer felt more stupid than ever. The sword had been to her left, not her right. "Krennan's been rescued!" shouted someone she recognized. Beatrice, as old as she appeared to be, came sliding to a stop near the Sister, whom she just realized looked much like Beatrice. "Lord Godfrey sent me to round you all up. We're to report to Greymane court before the worgen close in on us. We must hurry."

"Can you walk fine?" Zathaniel called out to her. She only nodded in reply, but his intense gaze said he didn't believe her. Not wanting to wait another minute to move, the group moved together, quickly and cautiously. Djinjer had to push herself to keep up with the group, to appear as if nothing was wrong, but she couldn't deny she was feeling worse by the second and the stinging of her wound was quickly turning into a burning sensation.

Upon reaching Greymane square, Djinjer noticed that everyone was there. Citizens, initiates, soldiers, the wounded and from the looks of bodies with blood stained sheets covering them, even some of the dead were here as well. "If we can make it to the gates of Duskhaven," the King was saying to the hundreds of people, "we'll be safe. The eastern mountains are virtually impassable."

Crowley, now wearing clothes and properly armed, had a horse of his own. "We need to keep the worgen's attention in the city. It's the only shot we have for the survivors to make it to Duskhaven."

"I'll stay behind with the Royal Guard, father. It is my duty to Gilneas."

"Not a chance, boy. Gilneas is going to need its king's undivided attention. Can't have your father wondering whether his child is alive or not." The Prince sincerely looked disappointed. "My men and I will hole up in Light's Hope Cathedral. I've already given the order and the cannons are on their way. Lead our people well, Genn."

"We were fools to take up arms against each other, Darius. The worgen would've never stood a chance." The King looked around, "Whomever wishes to join Crowley must move while they can," said the king. Hardly anyone stepped forward. With a look to Zathaniel, she found that he had already approached Darius. The initiates, bruised and battered, seemed far more interested in escorting their citizens than helping protect them by distracting the worgen. Leaving the city at the first chance would be an insult to every initiate and soldier that had fallen in battle. It would be an even greater insult to the citizens that lost their lives to this catastrophe.

Djinjer stepped forward, gaining the attention of everyone. Exhausted, battered, bruised, and ill, she still walked forward with her head held high. "You don't have to do this, girl," said Darius, obviously recognizing her.

"Djinjer," Djinjer couldn't help but feel shocked as the Prince spoke to her directly, "You've done more than enough already!"

"I have to stay," she said softly. "For _our_ people."

Darius nodded, placing a hand a bit too close to her wound. It sent a shiver through her, but no one noticed it. Soaked from the drizzling rain, everyone gave a shiver now and then. "I'd be a fool to turn you away." He then turned to those that had grouped around his horse. "Our next task will not be an easy one. I want two to a horse. Equip yourselves with these explosives. All you need to do is light 'em and throw 'em." He took a deep breath and looked around at his new crew. "As we head to the cathedral, we will take as many of those fleabags as possible!"

The small group cheered, hopping on horses. As soon as Darius was sitting on his horse, Djinjer was shocked when he pulled her up onto his horse. "The explosives are in the saddle bags!" he called out to everyone. "Follow me closely!"

Djinjer let out a gasp as he took off quickly. Had she not snaked her arm around his torso quickly, she would have fallen…and how humiliating would that have been? "We're coming up on them, men! Get ready!" Djinjer's free hand dug into the bag, grabbing a stick of dynamite, "Just yank off the top!"

She did so, which caused a spark and immediately, she threw. Darius let out a chuckle as it hit the abandoned guard house, doing more damage to their city than the worgen. But throwing blindly was not going to help her. Hearing the others whooping and hollering as they threw their dynamite, Djinjer quickly grabbed onto Crowley's shoulders. She carefully stood upon the horse and for the first time, saw what they were up against. It was as if the city belonged to the worgen and they, as humans, were the intruders. She carefully turned around as safely as she could, and straddled the horse backwards. Pressing her back against Crowley's, Djinjer slinked both hands into the bags.

She bit onto the white tops of the dynamite and threw them into a large crowd of worgen. Djinjer was pleased when she saw that her aim was much better like this. "Hold on!" he called out as his horse nearly came to a stop. Crowley hooked an arm around hers and the horse jumped the barricade. She couldn't explain the thrill of watching the others do the same or the thrill of watching worgen being thrown around by the explosions.

Their diversion worked perfectly. While she and a few others caught the initial attention of the worgen, the men that brought up the rear did the real damage. Worgen were truly just dumb beasts. Didn't they learn from watching their brethren be blown to bits because they ran together as a mob?

"Quickly! Man the cannons!" When the horse came to a stop outside of the cathedral, Djinjer as well as Crowley hopped down. The men that were there saluted him and immediately, Djinjer ran up to one of the large cannons she had discovered in the basement of Josiah's.

"They're all ready to fire!" shouted one of the men as the other horses came to a stop and those men joined the rest of Crowley's men. Djinjer was surprised to find the cannon moved with ease, pointing in any direction she wanted it to. "The fuses are short," explained the man. "Soon as you light it, it's going to fire!"

He handed her a torch. "After you fire one, go for the next! We'll reload it!"

Perhaps she was a bit "trigger happy" or maybe "fuse happy," because Djinjer merely pointed at the mass of worgen and slammed the torch on the small fuse. Just as the man promised, it jerked and slammed back into her, sending her to the ground. It didn't hit many of the worgen, but soared past her comrades, hitting the ground only feet ahead of them.

"It's them you're trying to kill, not us!" called out Zathaniel with a bit of humor in his voice. Perhaps because it was already in the early morning, but all of them seemed a bit more crazed than the were before. Either that, or what they said about explosions were real: it _did_ get the adrenaline pumping.

Djinjer made her way to the next one, this time, using the scope on the cannon to aim properly. She fired the cannon and felt immediate satisfaction as at least a dozen worgen were sent soaring into the air. Another explosion caught her attention and she found another one of her comrades firing the cannons on the opposite end.

Moving to the next cannon, Djinjer had a harder time focusing. Besides the brutal slaying of the worgen in the alley, she had never really seen Zathaniel fight, or any experienced soldier of the army. All of them moved with such precision and grace that she felt untrained and more of a brute than a warrior. Zathaniel spun around, expertly slashing and stabbing the enemy that got too close. At one point, she watched as he embedded one of his swords in the head of a worgen, removed a pistol with his free hand and shot three other worgen between the eyes. Before that first worgen could fall, he replaced the gun, grabbed his sword, and pulled it free.

"Fire!" someone shouted, and Djinjer quickly focused on the _hundreds_ of worgen. She fired the cannon, but it hardly seemed to stop them. "Fall back!" shouted a familiar man. It was Tobias, from the prison. "They're surrounding us on all ends! Hold up in the cathedral! Fall _back_!"

Most of the men fought bravely and the other person on the cannons fired twice more. Just as commanded, they fell back, shutting the door and barricading them, but of what use would it be? They were now sitting ducks.

This had been a suicide mission.

"We've given them everything we have…and yet they still come," Darius called out. Inside of the cathedral, everything seemed far more quiet than what it really was. Anyone that had a gun pointed it and aimed at the door, waiting for the worgen to break free. "Don't worry, soldiers, we may kill more before we fall."

Djinjer took a quick look at the men around her. All of them showed absolutely no fear. She turned her gaze to the door. "Feel free to say a prayer, if that's your sort of thing," Darius said. "And regardless of what happens here, it was an honor to fight by all of your sides."

"Hey, Djinjer," Zathaniel called out, slightly breathless.

"Yeah?"

"I never saw Kim in the crowd of evacuees." Guilt suddenly filled her. What was she supposed to say? "Before we die…I have to know, Djinjer."

"He turned into one of them," she forced out. "They're all dead."

Zathaniel's gun began trembling in his hands, but he exhaled once and steadied his rifle. "Let's kill as many of those bastards as we can."

Djinjer gripped her sword in her sore hands. The outer doors broke through the silence like a hot knife through butter and the inner set seemed to explode. Worgen came pouring into the church and immediately, the hunters and soldiers with guns fired their weapons. At first, the worgen began dropping immediately, creating a bit of a diversion by piling up, but a few learned. A few jumped over their own brethren and began their infamous attacks.

Those whom did not have guns engaged in combat against these smarter, tougher worgen, but that didn't stop their gunmen from being injured. Some were scratched, some were bitten. Even she was bit twice as she fought with all of her remaining strength and then just like that, as the sun broke through the clouds and the light beamed through the stained glass windows…it stopped. She blinked at the large orb in the sky. The brightness wasn't coming from the sun at all. It wasn't the early morning, as she thought it was. It was still night time, so how could the full moon be _so_ bright? All of them felt relief at the silence of the night…many of them sighed, but no one except herself dropped their guard.

"They…They've stopped coming. That's…not a good thing." Djinjer shook her head, her vision blurring again. Suddenly her insides cramped, and she dropped her sword as she fell to her knees. "Men…"

"No," she heard Zathaniel.

She couldn't help but pant heavily as she pressed her head against the floor. It felt as though she wasn't getting enough air to her lungs and each breath of air made her feel as if she were inhaling flames. She could hear the snarling and growling of a worgen, but why wasn't anyone doing anything? She was hurt, she _couldn't_ do anything!

Djinjer's back suddenly cracked. At the same time, it felt as if her ribs had exploded. Her chain mail gloves snapped and claws ripped out of the fingertips. "Are you okay?" someone asked, but it sounded like his speech was slow and drawn out. She blinked, attempting to clear her blurred vision, but instead, everything went black and the very last thing she heard was her own scream and a blood curdling howl.

[Sometime Later]

Since the rain started that night, the sun rarely showed its face. Dark clouds constantly filled the sky and for quite some time, not many people knew the difference between night and day. As the days moved on, the blackened sky lightened, but not by much. Instead, it seemed their luck turned for the worst, and the change in the sky was merely a welcome to new invading forces. The did not face scourge or worgen anymore, but instead, faced the Horde's Forsaken.

The potions were nearly ready and he, Lord Vincent Godfrey, had to see _them_ for himself. All had been calm today. Even the Forsaken forces remained quiet, which may not have been a good thing. Despite being advised to stay away from the beasts,

Guarded by some of the best remaining hunters, the soldiers and initiates that once fought beside him and for him, were locked in the strongest and best of cages. Not even needing a word, the guards opened the gates for him and in he walked through the puddles and mud to see the once brave soldiers. Many of them huddled in the corner of their cages, letting out snarls and giving him hateful glares. He ignored them, as he made his way to one. This young warrior initiate had made such impact on his soldiers and comrades that day. Had she not been infected, he was sure she would have become a Royal Guard.

As he approached the cage, he peered into it, seeing her huddled outline in the darkness. "Look at you've become," he said, inching closer. "Those cursed beasts…. They've left you nothing more than just another wretched mongrel." Slowly, she turned to look over her shoulder at him. "Do you even remember what you did to your friends?" She bared her teeth, snarling softly. "Your kind…haunting the wild, unchecked…until _we_ found you. _They've_ kept you alive, because they still believe you can be saved." He removed his top hat, bending until he was eye level with her, "To which I must ask, is there even a _shred_ left of humanity within you?" A whining, almost shameful groan escaped from her and slowly, she turned back around, facing away from him. He stood up, "Perhaps." He replaced his top hat and murmured out, "We will find out…soon enough."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** _No one pointed it out to me. I talked about it to other people and they argued with me. Apparently, I got the cinematic wrong (no, not the moon phase). I assumed the man in the cinematic was King Genn Greymane. It sounded like him. It looked like him. But apparently, according to WoWWiki, it's Vincent Godfrey! (my friends and other people seem to believe it's Greymane as well) But Lord Godfrey has short hair…and doesn't wear such a fine set of clothes. Which completely threw me off :3. I'm wondering if Blizzard made a mistake, considering Godfrey's sporting Greymane's hair and his in game model has VERY short hair (everyone else are shown according to their models). ! I'm also pretty embarrassed about all of the spelling mistakes in the previous chapters. So! I'm sorry. I'm going to keep the cinematic part as Greymane. I prefer it. The character seemed more hopeful than Godfrey ever has… *le sigh*_

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Krennan Aranas had always been interested in Alchemy, ever since he was a child. As he got older and became a more experienced alchemist, people became wary of him, though he didn't really know why. Their caution around him only increased after a small explosion, which left most of his face scarred. Because of the stares…because of the whispers, he mainly wore robes and shrouds to hide his disfigurement. Everything, however, changed after he was summoned to the Greymane Manor. Tess, the King's new born baby girl, was ill. It didn't take much to save her life, but to the King and Queen of Gilneas, it meant everything. Since that fateful night, he was highly respected, and were it not for the king sending out those brave initiates to save his life upon horseback, he would probably still be dangling from that tree.

Today, he stared at the worgen in front of him. He hadn't personally dealt with Djinjer himself, but he knew the girl…more particularly, her parents. Her father, James, was his boyhood friend. But when James broke away from the city to live in Duskhaven and start a farm of his own, the two lost contact with each other for years. Later, Krennan was invited to James and his wife's home, where Krennan found his old friend had become a father. Again, years passed by with not much word from James until one day when his wife had fallen ill. Little Djinjer, named accurately for her bright red hair, was a young child of four or five. She played with her little dolls near the fireplace, not knowing her mother was dying. But again, with a simple potion, he saved that woman's life.

Krennan looked around him at their safe haven. With _all_ of the citizens from Gilneas now living between Greymane Manor and Duskhaven, the small town was cramped. The Mayor sacrificed her house, making the first floor the dining hall. The second floor, on the other hand, was used as a sort of hospital, though Krennan wasn't sure why that was even established. Most people whom were infected either turned or died. The Curse, it seemed, was too strong for certain people and killed its victim before the beast within arose.

Though many families of Duskhaven did their best to share their homes with other families, there just wasn't enough room. All along the city were tents where people slept, huddled together for warmth. And for so long, they lived off of the crops in Duskhaven. Meat was scarce…because no one wanted to go out into the forest and hunt. Each time they went out there, more sedated worgen were brought back. And despite the seven that were seen up top, the seven that Lord Godfrey said they couldn't surpass, there were far more worgen hidden beneath his stubby nose.

Krennan let out a sigh as he made his way to the small wooden table. He took out the potions that were newly finished. Were it not for his connection to James and remembering little Djinjer's trust and love of him-even though he had been a stranger, he wouldn't have worked half as hard as he did on this potion. "I am not giving up on you," he said as he approached Djinjer's worgen form. After the initial craze of a worgen, it seemed they got their head on a little more straight. Though she was drugged most of the time, she was the most compliant of the bunch. Removed from her cage for testing, Djinjer was now shackled to the ground. Her wrists and head were buckled in the wooden holding block. "I don't have a cure for the Curse yet…but there are treatments. You will have control again."

But would she? All it took for some worgen was a single vial of the concoction. Others, on the other hand, couldn't get their heads with three, four, sometimes five vials. Lord Godfrey had those particular worgen killed. Djinjer, on the other hand, had rejected the first vial given to her, but Krennan was convinced it was because she hadn't ingested all of the potion. The second vial, which was given to Djinjer in secret, didn't work either.

And as if he smelt an experiment going on, Lord Godfrey walked into the gates, staring him down. "Still messing with this mutt?" he asked as he approached the drowsy Djinjer. "Give it up, Krennan. It's time to put this one down." Krennan's eyes moved from Lord Godfrey to the new visitor: King Greymane. "It's protocol."

"Tell me, Godfrey," the King said, obviously recognizing the worgen in question. "Those that stayed in Gilneas City so that we could live; were they following protocol?" Godfrey opened his mouth to reply, but shut it with a snap. "I didn't think so." He sighed and patted the worgen on the head. When Djinjer and three others were found, it was meant to be kept secret. That secret, however, spread amongst the townspeople like a wild fire. "But how can they be sure of it?" James had asked, obviously not wanting to get his hopes up. Djinjer, it seemed, still wore remnants of her initiates' armor despite it being damaged beyond repair. But that wasn't enough to convince anyone.

Those that captured her in the forest _knew_ it was Djinjer…because of something so ridiculous. Though facial piercings were frowned upon, Djinjer had two: her left nostril and left eyebrow were both pierced. Even as a worgen, the small bits of jewelry were still there. Not to mention, scars on the human body were _still_ visible on the worgen body. The fur over a scar was normally lighter in color and thinner as well. Because of that, they started cataloguing every worgen they came across in hopes to recognize them. After James and his wife confirmed the scars on Djinjer…her family wept. They visited her cage more than the other families.

"Now hand me that potion, Krennan," the king said, snapping him out of his thoughts, "And double the dosage." Godfrey snorted and stormed back towards the gates, where he watched from a distance. "I need you to pull through," said the king softly.

Krennan made his way back to the table, grabbing an empty container and filling it with twice the amount of potion that should _ever_ be given at one time. "This dosage is strong enough to kill a horse," Krennan told Greymane, handing over the container.

He nodded, "This is a strong girl. I know what she's made of and she'll be _fine_," but it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than Krennan. "I _know_ what you're going through," he murmured, giving a look to Krennan. The fact was, Krennan held far more secrets _now_ than he ever had. "Now drink up and close your eyes."

With a little difficulty, the king managed to force the green substance down Djinjer's throat. "We won't know for a while," Krennan murmured. "But my lord," Krennan lowered his voice, "Watch yourself around Godfrey. He no longer sees the worgen as our people, like you do."

The king gave a nod and turned. "Keep me updated, Krennan. And Godfrey, if you so much as harm that worgen before I am notified of her condition, I will see to it personally that you become their next meal."

Godfrey paled, but bowed, "Yes, my king."

Krennan gave him a nod as he passed, which Godfrey returned with a hateful glare. "I'll be sure to send the monster your way _if _she pulls through. But I doubt it…she's weak, just like the others. We should just kill them all and save the pure-bloods. That's what I think."

"Don't think that too loudly around our king," Krennan said, motioning to Greymane, whom spoke with Gwen Armstead only feet away.

[Djinjer's Point of View]

What happened? Her head was swimming. She remembered falling to her knees, in such horrible pain…but nothing after that. But she did dream. She dreamed she was one of them: one of the worgen. She ran with them in the woods; not speaking, but just _knowing_ what they were after. What a bizarre dream.

Where would she be when she awoke? Would she be in the city? Or back home? Had they won? Were they safe? Djinjer slowly opened her eyes, but she didn't quite understand what she saw. She blinked her eyes into focus, but questioned if she were really awake. Large, dogs like feet were caked with dried mud. Remnants of her boots were barely hanging on. Her legs quivered as she tried to stand up straight, but it was of no use. Her wrists and neck were bound by something and no matter how hard she tried to pull out of it, she just couldn't.

A snap caught her attention, and she did the best she could to look up. Lord Godfrey was walking towards her, but two men rushed out ahead of him. She watched them unlock her feet, which had been shackled, but as they unlocked the wooden holding device, Djinjer couldn't help but noticed her dark, furry hands. "So," Godfrey caught her attention again. And it was a good thing, too. Panic was quickly seeping in and she needed a good distraction. "Krennan's potion did not kill you? Well, I suppose the human inside of you is in control then."

The men quickly backed away from her as they removed the wooden restraint. Djinjer stood up, and the first thing she noticed was that she now stood taller than Lord Godfrey. "I guess I won't be shooting you after all. At least, not yet." He let out a sinister chuckle, but it was hard to be irritated with him when she was so confused and bewildered with herself.

"Ask around for Krennan and give him the good news when you find him. He's somewhere in the town, lurking about. He's in charge of the house where we keep…your kind."

Djinjer took a step forward, but a low growl caught her attention. Surrounding her were cages with other worgen inside. The females were noticeably smaller and more sleek than their male counterparts, which brought her to look herself over again. Was she still dreaming?

"Just remember, _girl_, I've got my eye on you. You so much as try anything funny and you'll get a bullet between your eyes," Lord Godfrey glared at her as he crossed his arms. The look clearly said, "Dare it," and though she very much wanted to attack him, something held her back. Something restrained her from giving into that animalistic rage.

Deciding to leave the presence of such an awful man, Djinjer made her way out of the large holding pin and took a look around. She was in her home town, but everything looked different. The cobblestone road was broken to pieces and for the most part, was now a dirt road. The sky was gray and though the clouds threatened to rain, not a single drop fell.

Gilneans stood together, sat together, spoke with one another outside of houses. Some, she was surprised to see, were dressed worgen. A few caught her eyes and then snorted in her direction, then sniffed the air and let out what Djinjer could only assume was a smile. "If you're looking for Krennan," growled out a large male, "he's in _that_ house over there."

"Thank you," she said, horrified and intrigued by her own voice. She cleared her throat by human instinct, but she knew the growling was something she could never be rid of. Deciding not to waste anymore time looking around at her disfigured, depressed looking town, Djinjer quickly made her way to the house the worgen had pointed at.

As soon as she approached the open doorway, she spotted a familiar face. Gwen Armstead stood beside someone, nodding as the person spoke softly. Djinjer leaned over, getting a better look inside. The robed man, whom stood next to a very dapper worgen, looked up in surprise. "My word," he said softly. "It worked! By the Light, it worked!"

Gwenn met her eyes with delight shining in her own. "Don't just stand out there, Djinjer! Come in, come in!" Djinjer's stomach tightened painfully, both with nerves and hunger as she walked into the building. But like she had before, Gwen stormed over to her and grabbed her arm, showing no fear. This, it felt, was like a world gone mad. The enemy that they had fought so hard against was now…their people? And she was one of them?

"Welcome back, Djinjer! You were fortunate! Krennan's treatment doesn't always work this well on people who've had the curse as long as you!"

"Well," Krennan shifted uncomfortably. "The effects of the Curse cannot ever be fully cured as far as we know."

But Djinjer shook her head. "What's going on?" she asked softly, tears filling her eyes. "This is so…so…"

"Let the poor dear sit down," said another growling voice. A worgen wearing a dress pushed through the three of them and grabbed up Djinjer, bringing her to a small table. It felt odd to sit on the small chairs, but a bowl of vegetable stew was placed in front of her, which instantly made her feel better.

Gwen quickly whispered to the two men…or worgen and man. She sat across from Djinjer and sighed softly. "Djinjer…I know this must be confusing for you. It is for everyone that's been cursed." Djinjer grabbed the tiny spoon beside her bowl and slowly stirred it, deciding to keep her eyes glued to the stew. "You've been gone for _months_. We only recently found you and…" she sighed again, "What matters is that you're safe and whole and in control of your human side."

"I don't remember being gone for so long," Djinjer whispered out.

This time, Krennan spoke up. "You won't remember what happened as a wild beast, because the treatment has given your human mind back to you. We are _very_ fortunate that the treatment worked. Normally, I can only successfully treat recent infections, which are more common than not." There was some shuffling and then he approached her. "Here. It's a normal dosage." He murmured, pouring the potion into her stew, "I want you to have it with your meal. We'll need to continue your medication if we're to have you reverse the Curse."

Djinjer slowly began spooning the stew into her mouth, which was far more complicated as a worgen than it should have been. But she managed and learned quickly, which was comforting. "Do you recognize me?" the female asked. Djinjer shook her head. "It's _me_, Djinjer…Mary. Mary Oxworth." Djinjer couldn't keep the spoon from falling out of her hand. Mary had always handled the finances of the town with ease.

If _she_ had become a Worgen…then what happened to her parents?

As if sensing what Djinjer was thinking, the Mayor quickly stood up and said, "I'll send word for your parents. As soon as she eats up, Krennan, you should give her a task. As King Greymane said, its best to keep the newly treated worgen busy."

"Of course, Gwen," he said softly. Giving up on her spoon, Djinjer decided to take the easier method of eating…which may have been frowned upon. After she was done slurping down the stew, Krennan Aranas finally gave her a task. "I will need mandrake essence to brew another batch of my serum for you and the others. You will find a crate stashed beneath a shed southwest of town. Lord Godfrey would have a fit if he knew I was running short."

Djinjer wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and stood up. "Do exercise caution, Djinjer, especially with your parents. You need to be careful with everyone you come into contact with, so that you don't continue to spread the Curse. Also, don't expect anyone to invite you into their homes just yet."

"At least," the male finally spoke up, "they won't shoot you outright."

Djinjer walked out of the house with her head swimming. This all felt even more like a bizarre nightmare. "Djinjer, you forgot something important." Krennan approached her with a dark linen bundle. "It's your sword."

Instantly, Djinjer had a flash back of the moment she dropped it in the Cathedral. For some reason, even though that moment felt like it had just happened, Djinjer couldn't help but feel as though she had lost this sword forever. Carefully, the alchemist unwrapped the sword and handed it out to her. She was surprised at how easy it was to handle. It felt smaller, but at the same time, she knew that it would be easier to fight with. But why use weapons when she had become one? Perhaps it was to help them recapture something of their human side? Would fighting with her bare hands and teeth tempt her to become more animalistic? She didn't think much more about it as she gave the sword one sturdy swing.

"Just over there, beyond the gates and tents, you'll find a small shack. We've stored all extra armor within it and thanks to Myriam and her students, they've placed a spell over the armor. No longer will your armor shatter or tear when you transform. It will expand according to your size. Just speak to Myriam outside of the shed. She's set up her tent nearby."

Djinjer looked down at herself and though she was covered in fur, it was the first time she had noticed that she essentially naked. She blushed, but she was sure no one could see. She thanked Krennan and continued walking along the path he pointed in. Myriam looked more than content, sitting in her rocking chair just outside of her tent and beside the shed. She hummed softly as she knitted by hand, abandoning the easier methods of using magic to do everything for her.

She looked up as soon as Djinjer approached her, which made Djinjer feel even more awkward. But Djinjer needn't say a word. The mage got up, walked into the shed and reappeared moments later with a new set of chain mail armor. It didn't match at all, but it was better than nothing. "Don't worry about your transformations," she said softly.

"Everyone keeps talking about transforming," Djinjer replied in an equally soft tone. "But I don't understand…"

The mage smiled at her. "Why…after a while, some worgen seem to regain their human bodies. But as soon as they transformed again," she made an exploding sound, "their new armor was destroyed again." She laughed softly. "Judging by your questions, I'm guessing you've only just gotten in control again?" Djinjer nodded. "It'll be confusing at first…but you'll learn to cope and deal with the changes, just as the others have. Though…I hear the fleas are downright terrible."

Djinjer only blinked at her in reply, finally taking the armor from the mage. "Just a tip," the mage leaned in close, "You _may_ want to bathe _before_ putting on the armor."

Djinjer wanted to snap back at her that it was moronic _not_ to bathe…but truth be told, she hadn't even thought about it. With another look over, Djinjer realized her fur was matted and tangled with clumps of mud, leaves, and other substances that she couldn't really identify and didn't care to know about. "Where?" was all she could ask, and with a point of the mage's finger, Djinjer turned around.

Two women stood on either side of a male worgen, drying him off with towels. He held his hands up to the women and then quickly shook himself like a dog, which made the women giggle and attempt to shield themselves with the towel. With a sigh and wild-fire-embarrassment, Djinjer made her way to the two women. The male worgen shook himself again, which didn't get as many giggles, but even as a worgen, she could tell he was grinning.

The older of the two women looked at her, wiping her slightly damp face. "No need telling us what you're here for," she said breathlessly. "Marie, get the bolt cutters, please. Looks like we have a job ahead of us."

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**Author's Note:** _Sorry for the mix up with the information and yes, this was a tie over chapter. :3 Hope you guys enjoyed it anyway._


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** _I was told by a few of my readers (the ones that I let read my fics before I post them here) that this fic was a bit more disconnected. They felt that Djinjer hasn't really reacted and in truth, that's what I'm going for. Djinjer is the type of person that will react, but only when she allows herself. At the moment, everything is happening too fast for her to react properly. I sped through some of the scenes as you'll probably be able to tell, but it was sort of hard to formulate how this would work out in a realistic setting. :3 I hope you all enjoy, regardless! Also! Chapters may slow down if only because I'm a bit busy irl and I'm working on another fic that desperately needs to pick up the pace. I hate writer's block :(_

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Having tangled chain mail cut out of her fur was bad, but being bathed by two complete strangers in front of everyone was even worse. It seemed that now that her body was covered in fur, no one seemed to mind if she was completely naked. But she minded. Each time she saw a man in the distance, she quickly covered up, which caused the two women to giggle. How would they like being scrubbed my strangers in cold water?

It was all worth it, however. She, like the male worgen, stood up, shaking herself free of excess water. She didn't _mean_ to splash the women, it was just a very natural thing to do. The women did their best to towel her off, drying her almost completely. At the moment, Djinjer couldn't remember feeling so clean. Then again, it was probably because she had never been so covered in grime before either. When it was all said and done, Djinjer accepted the women's help with getting into her gear. At first, it all looked far too small for her, but as if the chain mail was made of cloth, it stretched and melded to her skin quite comfortable.

Djinjer, cleaned and refreshed, finally made her way back into town. No one really looked at her, as she expected them to. In her own eyes, she was still very much a freak. How could she be considered normal…but then again, when had worgen and humans become so friendly? Djinjer didn't think much else on it as she made her way towards her destination. Her heart froze. Just beyond the shed stood a few farm houses and one of them belonged to her own very family. Resisting the urge to run over there right now, Djinjer quickly dashed over to the shed, but came to a skidding halt.

Djinjer didn't need to get an inch closer to the watchmen near the crate. Not only was a dagger sticking out of his back, but the scent of blood was heavy upon the air. She sniffed a few more times. The potions smelt exceptionally strong and as she got a better look at the crate, she knew why. It had been smashed and the vials inside of it had been broken.

Slowly, as if something was telling her to look up, Djinjer looked out past the farms. With her sharp worgen eyes, Djinjer had no problem making out the shapes of savage warships. Only newly awoken and Djinjer _knew_ that Gilneas was being invaded. Just as that realization seeped in, a ghastly creature sprung out of the darkness. No words could describe the feeling of horror that ran through Djinjer as she eyed the undead being. With her reactions being quicker than they were as a human, Djinjer withdrew her sword and swung with quick movements. The creature didn't land a single successful blow. Instead, Djinjer slaughtered it with only a few strong swings of her sword.

Not wanting to waste another second, Djinjer quickly ran back to the town. Her longer, stronger legs had no problem complying to her order and quicker than ever, Djinjer made it back to town faster than she ever had. "Mayor!" she barked out, ignoring how awkward it was to hear the growl in her voice.

"What is it?" Gwen shouted back, dashing out of one of the near by houses.

Djinjer quickly approached the Mayor, keeping her voice to a panicked by quiet whisper. "The supplies were destroyed! An undead creature _killed_ the watchman, and Mayor…" She turned slightly, pointing out into the distance. "Ships are coming."

Gwen gasped and pulled a small cylinder from her belt. It turned out to be a telescope, which she used to spy upon the ships. "Forsaken!" she hissed, "There are two of them. But believe me, there will be more. Quick, Djinjer! We must mount a defense. Round up all of the advisors, they'll know what to do!"

Like she had so long ago, Djinjer ran off in a random direction, not entirely certain _where_ she should be running. At least she knew where _one_ advisor was. Myriam was no longer sitting on her rocking chair. In fact, she was standing there, as if waiting for Djinjer. "Something awful is happening, isn't it?" she asked as Djinjer approached her. "Don't worry about the others," she said quickly, slipping into her shoes. "I'll fetch them. _You_ head back to Gwen. There must be something you can do."

Djinjer's toes dug into the soft earth as she pushed herself in the opposite direction. If there was one thing she was enjoying about being a worgen so far, it was her speed. She could run faster than she ever had and yet, she didn't lose her breath. It was an amazing feeling. Gwen, however, was no where to be found.

The people of Duskhaven seemed to understand what was going on, even if no one was saying much. Even those in their tents crammed into houses and those not rushing for an open door were rushing to the back of Duskhaven. Djinjer came to a skidding halt as she heard Gwen's voice, "The Forsaken are attacking Duskhaven! They'll be here any minute! Get your drunken butt up!"

Djinjer took a small alleyway, following the sound of the mayor's voice. As soon as she reached the south western edge of the town, Djinjer found the mayor standing beside a shirtless man. At first, had she only glanced, she wouldn't have recognized this man. His perfect, short blondish brown hair had grown out, as had a goatee on his chin. As if feeling her stare, he looked at with a glare, then downed the rest of his bottle. Was he really whom she thought he was…or did he just bare a striking resemblance?

"Good!" Gwen said as her own eyes fell upon Djinjer. Djinjer jogged over to the Mayor's side, but had a hard time focusing as many men rushed past them to start setting up a defense line.

The drunken prince seemed very alert and angry. "But how?" he let out a snarl of his own.

Gwen shook her head and for the first time in a long time, Djinjer saw fear in the mayor's eyes. "The reefs have always protected us from a coastal attack. I think the earthquakes may have opened a passage for the Forsaken ships. Djinjer." The mayor turned to her again and for a split second, it seemed as though the prince was shocked at hearing her name, "You and the others need to slow down the attackers while I get the rest of the militia ready."

"Prince Liam!" shouted some of the men and even in his drunken state, the prince caught a gun that was tossed his way.

Gwen pulled Djinjer closer, "Liam will know what to do, Djinjer. Speak to him and see how you can be of use."

"C'mon, you disgusting bags of rotten flesh!" The prince climbed atop of a small boulder, took a long drink from his bottle of liquor and threw it out towards an advancing undead creature. It hit the undead straight on the head, knocking its helmet askew. It stumbled around for a bit and then was shot dead, but apparently the prince didn't quite see his enemy fall. "Where'd you go?" he shouted. "Don't have the balls to face me!" Gwen and Djinjer both gasped as the prince grabbed himself. "If you kill me, you can take mine!"

"Make sure he doesn't get himself killed! Seems he's a bit reckless in his current state."

"S-sure," Djinjer stuttered out, watching the prince stumble off of his rock to grab another bottle, which he threw and yet again, hit an undead soldier.

"Be safe!" Gwen called out over her shoulder as she ran back towards the town. Djinjer slowly looked back out into the distance.

"Please be safe," she whispered, thinking of her parents, whom she had yet to see. With a quick glance in the direction of her house, Djinjer realize how close it seemed to the Forsaken ships. Once more, Djinjer's eyes fell upon the Prince of Gilneas, wearing nothing more than black pants, his boots, and bracers. He was now shooting randomly…and it seemed his approach with the empty liquor bottles was more effective.

With a soft sigh, she walked over to the prince, who quickly said to her, "I can't believe you're alive, warrior girl. I saw your face so many times in my nightmares. I thought you were gone. Maybe you're alive or dead…human or worgen…. I'm not even sure if I'm really awake. But _this_ I am sure of…" he threw a rock this time, "We're going to kill a great many of these motherless Forsaken!"

He wavered for a moment, then turned and looked at something. "Look at that. So much gunpowder…." And then he turned back to her with lively eyes. "I have an idea so crazy it might just work. Or it might get you killed, if we're not careful, I suppose. Look at those big ones! They're called Abominations. Bullets and bottles aren't going to take them down." He chuckled and pointed to the nearest keg of gunpowder, "Grab 'em up and toss 'em right on the abominations' heads. I'll take care of the rest with this trusty old blunderbuss."

"What?" she shouted, horrified by his drunken plan.

"It'll work!" he said, shooting a random undead.

Djinjer sighed again, but quickly made her way over to the keg. As a human, she would have had trouble lifting this, but she was stronger now and it wasn't hard to move one at all. She made sure to avoid the large crowd of undead hobbling their way over to the fighting men. In all of the horror stories she had both read and had heard of, she had never expected undead humans to move so quickly or fight with such shocking strength. But abominations? She had no idea what they were, but from the smell and looks of them, Djinjer knew they were created to instill fear into their victims.

Djinjer let out a growling yell as she threw the large keg, spilling gun powder in every direction that it spun. Thankfully, it landed right on top of the abomination's big fat head. "Run," she heard and quickly, Djinjer sped off to another keg. The explosion was loud and captured the attention of the smaller undead. She panicked as over ten of them turned and started running towards her. And then, for the first time since she had awoken, Djinjer laid eyes upon her comrades.

Though she had _no_ idea who any of them were, many worgen came to her defense, attacking the group head on. Not a single one of them managed to slip by the angry mob of worgen. Djinjer quickly grabbed up another keg and began making her way to yet another abomination. When she threw it this time, the keg didn't come close to its head. Instead, it got caught on the abomination's exposed ribcage. "Uh oh," it bellowed out and though Djinjer turned to run, she wasn't fast enough.

The explosion sent her slamming into the ground, covered with the forsaken's body parts and green blood. She shook her head, trying to get the ringing sensation to stop, but it was of little use. Djinjer shook her head again and slowly got to her feet, but it was hard to stand straight. Realizing what she was up to, a gray female worgen wearing the same gear as herself grabbed up a keg and threw it to another abomination.

Though her surroundings were muffled, Djinjer didn't need to hear the worgen, whom pointed behind her then engaged in combat. Djinjer spun around and withdrew her sword just in time to block the attack of an undead. She was horrified to see its rotten face up close. She planted a foot into its chest and shoved it away from her, only to charge it soon after.

The blasted thing didn't even have a jaw! Its tongue just hung there, wiggling when the undead let out a gurgling roar. With one hard swipe of her sword, the undead's head popped off and the body fell to the ground. Djinjer didn't have time to celebrate, as another undead made its way to her. Slowly, she stepped backwards, blocking each of the forsaken's attack. Finally she managed to slam her fist into its skull, followed by slicing an arm off. A sudden pop of her ears and Djinjer could hear perfectly fine again, but the sensation it caused proved to be a bad thing on her part.

The undead soldier sliced her arm open, which caused her to howl. Now very angry, Djinjer lurched forward, biting at the undead's neck. She couldn't stop herself from shaking her head violently, from biting even harder with each stab of its dagger. Finally, the undead became limp and Djinjer released her hold upon him. "They're nearly all gone!" shouted the prince.

Djinjer let out a groan as she placed her hand over the right side of her ribcage. "We can take it from here," Liam called out to her. Djinjer couldn't believe that the wound that should have been fatal were barely bleeding. Perhaps her flesh had thickened, now that she was a worgen? Djinjer approached the prince with a little difficulty, but was pleased to see the fight had sobered him up. He shot some of the opposing forces with precision he lacked earlier. One more shot and one more explosion later, Liam placed a hand on her shoulder. "These are only a small part of the Forsaken's forces. If we don't move quickly, we're going to have bigger problems on our hands. Speak to Mayor Armstead…it may be better to engage them at their landing location."

Djinjer nodded and quickly made her way to the small alley she had passed through moments ago. There, Djinjer let out another groan. The pain wasn't the worst she had felt, but it was definitely a dull pain, which was always the worst for Djinjer to deal with. Sharp pains? Not a problem. Dull? Always a bother…and distracting, too!

Djinjer quickly made her way back to the main hub, thrilled to find the mayor speaking quickly with Krennan. "What are you doing back so soon, Djinjer?" the mayor asked, equipping herself with the very same rapier she had in the city.

"The prince thinks we should-"

"Attack their landing location? Great news, then. I've sent the remaining militia to the shore to meet the Forsaken force head on. Lord Godfrey is leading the attack. I've been told he has commandeered the storm cellar in the Allen Farmstead." Djinjer needn't know anything more. She knew the Allen family very well and quickly began making her way to their farmstead. How many times had she seen Jeremaya Allen in a single day?

She ignored the now searing pain of the wounds she had received and rushed through the thick cornfields of the Hammond farmstead. The Hammond family actually learned all of their tricks to their corn crops from her father, but they never grew half as beautiful as their own corn. The Hammond family, instead, specialized in their pumpkins.

Djinjer hopped over the large scar in the earth and immediately, she spotted mastiffs and their huntsmen standing beside the entrance of the Allen cellar. It didn't take her long to clear the gap. The two men nodded at her, but Djinjer couldn't help but feel hesitant around them. She swallowed, ignored her pain, and made her way down the stairs into the cellar. "Bout time you get here," Godfrey said, seemingly not impressed with Djinjer's arrival. "And our newest…pet…at that." He chuckled softly, "The Forsaken are here in full strength. We barely have enough men to hold them back."

Melinda Hammond was sitting in the corner of the cellar, her bloodshot eyes filled with fear. If there was one thing Djinjer thought was suspicious, it was that her children were not beside her. Godfrey snapped his fingers to get her attention. "Who knows how long 'til Krennan's concoction wears off and you're trying to chomp one of our heads off. Until that time, however, we can make ample use of your ferocity. I want you to go out in the battlefield and kill as many of those Forsaken as you can, in as brutal of a way as you can. I'm not going to lie, Djinjer." Melinda's eyes widened, "I don't like the idea of having worgen among our ranks. But while we do, let's put the fear of the worgen in them."

"You have to find my children!" Melinda blurted out, tears streaming down her face. Godfrey sighed loudly. "They won't let me go out there to find them! Please, Djinjer, the Forsaken have no regard for innocent life! Your family has helped us so many times, please…just once more?"

"I told you already, woman, it's too dangerous for you to be out there looking for your brats." Godfrey's head snapped towards the direction of the cellar door as a loud explosion shook the house. "The Forsaken catapults are kicking the snot out of us. And even if we do take care of them, they've two ships with rows of cannons at the ready." Djinjer looked back to find Lord Godfrey grinning devilishly at her. "I've a plan to kill two birds with one stone. You're the stone in this plan. Out to the west, not far from the shore are the catapults. Our men are doing the best they can to fight against the Forsaken forces and possibly gain access to the catapults. Help them do just that and once you take out the machinists, have someone use the catapult to launch you aboard the ships. Take care of their captains and any Forsaken you come across. Good luck, Djinjer."

It was hard to turn her back on Melinda's heart broken sobs and though she had direct orders from Lord Godfrey, it wouldn't hurt to look for the children. How could anyone allow their young to be in such danger and not want to look for them? As soon as she stepped outside, Djinjer turned her nose to the air, sniffing out the different scents. She didn't know why or how she even thought of doing this, but it seemed to work.

Before she joined the army, Djinjer sometimes baby sat the three young Hammond children. James, she had noticed back then, always smelt of maple syrup. Djinjer quickly followed the scent to the Hammond farmstead, shocked to find James scrambling to open his own cellar. What was even more shocking was looking out across the fields to find one of the Forsaken catapults facing their direction.

Djinjer quickly grabbed him up around the waist and turned the corner around the house. "Your mother's in the basement next door!" she snarled as she put him down. "Get to her now!"

"Don't hurt me!" he said, cowering in front of her, tears streaming down his face. "I was just looking for my sisters! I think Ashley's inside the house!"

"Go!" Djinjer shouted, which sent the boy dashing towards their neighbors house. Djinjer took a deep breath and continued inside the house. She kicked aside the many toys along the floor and from the smells of things, it seemed Ashley was upstairs. Djinjer was almost horrified to find the girl crying beneath the bed. "Are you one of the good worgen?" she whispered.

"Yes! It's me, Djinjer!" The little girl didn't seem to have any trouble believing her. In fact, she pulled herself from under the bed and threw her arms around Djinjer's waist. "Don't leave me," she said against Djinjer. "Cynthia went to find James but there were these mean, ugly zombies outside and so she hid in the shed outside!"

"You need to get to your mother!" Djinjer barked out, startling the girl.

"No, take me with you!"

Djinjer had no choice but to take the girl into her arms and make her way outside. Ashley was the youngest of the three, which meant she was also the smallest. Holding the girl securely in her left arm was no problem. Holding her sword in the other hand was also not a problem. Coming across a Forsaken soldier while trying to protect a child and get to another? That was a huge problem.

Ashley let out a high pitched scream as a Forsaken soldier jumped out from between the stalks. Djinjer spun around and did her best to maneuver around the corn. Thankfully, it seemed to work. Djinjer got in a few hits while the Forsaken warrior seemed to focus primarily on cutting down the stalks of corn to get to her quicker. But before he knew it, Djinjer had come up from behind him, decapitating him with little effort.

"Don't pull!" Djinjer snarled between her clenched teeth. The entire time the fight took place, Ashley buried her face in the crook of Djinjer's neck, gripping onto her with fistfuls of fur. Ashley, it seemed, didn't really care if she was creating bald spots on Djinjer. Not wanting to prolong their luck any further, Djinjer quickly made her way to the shed, yanking open the door.

Cynthia, the eldest of the three children, also let out a high pitch scream, which Djinjer was certain could scare off even the Forsaken. "What did you do to my sister!" she screeched, kicking at Djinjer's feet.

"It's Djinjer!" Ashley shouted, which was enough for Cynthia. Her tears immediately stopped and quickly, Djinjer put Ashley down while Cynthia crawled out of the shed. "You two need to get to your mother, over in the Allens' basement, okay?"

Djinjer waited until the girls disappeared behind the house before she turned to make her way to the catapults. She encountered a few soldiers on the way, but it was no big deal. She handled them quickly, received another wound, and made her way over to the nearest catapult, which was surrounded by men.

"This ship's being taken care of!" shouted one of the men, loading up a barrel into the catapult. Another man sat in the machinist's seat. The catapult was facing the ship and from the looks of it, some worgen were already aboard that one. "Join the others!" he pointed at another catapult, which was being fought over.

Djinjer was surprised to see many masterless mastiff's fighting alongside the men, which were clearly not hunters. One in particular caught her attention, which made her heart pound in her chest. It was Brutus. But where was Zathaniel?

Djinjer hopped into action, climbing onto the catapult. She slammed the hilt of her sword into the Forsaken's head repeatedly until one of the men shot the…female, was it? It sort of looked female. But the shot was a steady one and finished the job. "Good job!" shouted one of men, but it wasn't directed towards her. "Hey Djinjer!" shouted the hunter, waving happily at her.

The brown worgen didn't look familiar…or seem familiar, for that matter. "It's me! Elijah!" Was that the hunter she had been with? His voice seemed familiar now.

"Get in the 'pult!" said a man, pulling the body from the chair. He hopped in and spun the large machine around. Djinjer did as she was told, but she couldn't deny being terrified. "One," shouted the man, "two," the actual catapult jerked a bit as he aimed it, "THREE!"

Djinjer let out a shriek as she was suddenly flung forward through the air. Humans and undead alike seemed to be stopping whatever they were doing to watch her soar through the air, screeching at the top of her lungs. Djinjer's screeching finally came to a stop as she slammed onto the deck of the ship. She bounced once, slammed into it again and were it not for her sharp claws, she would have slid straight off of the deck. She quickly pulled herself up, scrambling to get to her feet before the Forsaken in front of her attacked.

Seemingly more human than some of the others, he blinked at her a few times, grabbed a horn that was on his belt, and blew into it. The low horn quickly captured the attention of anyone below the deck and Djinjer, unfortunately, found herself in a very bad situation. Djinjer looked around her, finding four undead surrounding her, their swords withdrawn. Another howl caught all of their attention and it was clear Elijah was on his way.

Taking advantage of the surprise of the undead crewmen, Djinjer brought her sword up high and clenching it with both hands, brought it down with as much strength as she could muster. It did far more damage than she had expected, which resulted in her sword being deeply embedded into the wooden deck.

Elijah was lucky. He crashed into the other three Forsaken, killing one in the process. This allowed her a little time to yank her sword up and spin around, decapitating one of the undead that quickly hopped back to his feet. "That was a bit rougher than I had expected." The other undead, pinned by Elijah's foot, snarled and clawed at the hunter, but one shot later and it was quiet.

"They're waiting for us down below," he said and to her horror, Djinjer was suddenly slammed into the deck, blood gushing out of her nose.

"Sorry 'bout that!" said a familiar voice. The light brown worgen female crawled off of Djinjer. "Let me fix that," she said, placing her hands on Djinjer's shoulder. All aches and pains were immediately erased and after a quick look over, she realized it had been a priest that crashed into her.

"Let's get going," Elijah said, before we end up being killed by our own kind.

"We should wait for at least one more," said the priest, helping Djinjer up. And not a moment later, a grayed worgen landed perfectly on her feet. It was the same one she had seen earlier. "Beatrice, I'm glad it's you."

"Beatrice?" Djinjer eyed the worgen and immediate relief washed over her. She wasn't the only warrior that had turned.

The grayed worgen let out a chuckle, "Bout time they found you, Djinjer! You're the only girl in my barracks that I couldn't reconnect with. But now isn't the time. Let's get beneath the deck and kill that Captain."

With three companions, everything was easier. She and Beatrice were up front, gaining the initial attention while Elijah picked them off from behind. The other female, Paige, did her best to help the fight but really wasn't needed. Instead, her heals were a complete blessing and made everything so much easier. For the first time since she woke up, Djinjer felt renewed and stronger than ever. The captain was taken down even easier, being he had cornered himself in a room. Elijah hadn't even gotten a chance to aim his gun before she and Beatrice made minced meat out of him.

They returned to the battle outside of the ship and only she and Elijah returned to report that Captain Anson had been killed. Within the cellar were a few more worgen giving their report of the death of Captain Morris. Djinjer nodded as Melinda gave her a slight wave, her children all sitting behind her.

"Excellent work so far, soldiers. Our scouts have identified the leader of the Forsaken ground assault." Godfrey shot a particular nasty grin at all of them. "One of Sylvanas' handpicked dark rangers is overseeing the battlefront from the Walden house near the shore." Djinjer's heart suddenly froze. The Walden house was her neighbor. If a so called dark ranger was there…what did that mean for her family? "Take this whistle and use it when you're close to her. I'll have my men let loose our attack mastiffs to help take her down. Be careful, soldiers. None of you want to engage her alone."

Djinjer felt nervous as she traveled along the roads she had walked along all of her life. The Walden house stood closest to the shore with her own house next to it. They would be passing her house to get to their target. The five worgen were silent as they jogged along the road. A mage had the whistle around his neck, but the front of the group was led by a druid. It was odd, seeing the worgen throw himself down, only to become a large cat.

Djinjer suddenly shivered as they came across her house. All of the windows were broken and the door was open. She wanted to burst into the house and find her parents, but the composed soldier inside of her pressed onward. Chances were, her parents were either in Duskhaven or in their cellar, safe from danger. She shouldn't worry, right?

The Dark Ranger they were told about was easy to spot out. She sat upon an undead horse and looked _nothing_ like the undead soldiers that fought for her. She looked more like what was described to her of an elf. And though she was quite eerie to look at, Djinjer shamefully felt an attraction towards her. The ranger slowly turned her eyes to them and slipped off of her horse, if it could even be called that.

"Have the pups come out to play?" Her voice was smooth and unfeeling. Its echo only added to the eeriness of her red eyes. "Then let's play."

The worgen mage took absolutely no time in blowing the whistle. Djinjer was surprised to see a wave of mastiffs coming up quickly behind them and just as quickly, they and her group began attacking the ranger. It wasn't as easy as she thought it would be. The Dark Ranger was powerful. Her attacks killed many of the mastiffs, but also injured some of her group. Djinjer, with her heart pounding so loudly she could hear little else, managed to always miss her attacks. The druid and rogue, however, were not so lucky. Still, the large numbers of mastiffs as well as the close combat soldiers were too much for the ranger. She gave up on her bow almost immediately and did her best to protect herself with her sword.

It didn't work. Instead, Djinjer's sword ripped through the ranger's body, landing the killing blow. When the ranger fell to the ground, a sigh of relief escaped all of them. It was almost as if her death meant something more than what it was. It almost felt like it was a step forward, not just in the protection of their land, but perhaps it was a step forward in something else…something life altering.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** _I had a hard time with this chapter. I mean it flowed out nicely, but it was really hard to capture the anguish that Djinjer felt. You'll see how this reflects in her mood in the next chapter, which I'm waiting to post up. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. If you're wondering about **her** house, well...I originally wanted it to be the house that the Dark Ranger is in front of, but I took one look inside (when you can go inside) and saw that it looked more like a tavern than anything else. Lots of booze and such. So why not make up my own house? Huzzah! Again, if there are any mistakes, I apologize...but it's hard to want to read over something you JUST wrote :3 *hates editing* To anyone who actually finds me in game. Kudos to you for catching me online. And yes...I know. "OMG! You're low level!" Duh. I have a main and it's not Djinjer lol. Thanks for the kind whispers and to that one guy who gave me gold, thanks again. I really didn't need it but thank you anyway for being awesome.  


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"What are you doing?" Elijah called out only a few feet away from her. "C'mon, Djinjer."

Djinjer couldn't move. They had just slain a Dark Ranger, whom set up camp only yards away from her own house. Now, Djinjer stood in front of her house, frozen to the spot. She couldn't tear her eyes from the damage, which sent a quiet fear coursing through her veins. What if her family was still inside…. Coming across Kimberly and her family was hard enough. How could she handle seeing her family most likely in the same condition?

"Godfrey's sent me to check up on all of you…or as he put it, 'Count the bodies.'" It was Beatrice. Sure, even if her worgen voice was a complete give away, Djinjer was now becoming used to scents. She inhaled deeply.

The air around her was filled with the smell of death, gun powder, and chemicals. None of it, however, seemed to be permeating from her house.

"Djinj-" was followed quick by a smack, a yelp, and a snarl.

"Shut up!" Beatrice hissed out. "Can't you tell? That's her_ home_, you nitwit!" A moment of silence later and a hand was placed on her shoulder. "Go in, dear…you won't know for certain until you look."

Djinjer turned to Beatrice, her eyes filled with tears. "I…I can't."

Beatrice gave her a nod and looked at the house. "If we don't find them, we may want to check around the town. I take it you haven't heard from them at all?" Djinjer shook her head. "Lousy time for you to come around…" She let out a sigh and walked into the house. For a while, Djinjer had no problem watching Beatrice walk around inside the house, but as soon as Beatrice disappeared upstairs, Djinjer's heart began pounding.

"I hope they're okay," murmured the mage. "We were so safe for so long…and now? There's just so much death."

Djinjer shivered, but froze as she spotted the foot of Beatrice. "They aren't here!" Beatrice called out, descending from the stairs. "Do they have a cellar or-"

Djinjer dashed around to the other side of the house. She had only been in her cellar a total of three times. For the most part, her family used it as a "just in case anything bad happens" area, but as she grew up, her mother used it as a personal art studio. Regardless, she rarely had reason to go down there, but from what she remembered, the cellar locked from outside _and_ inside.

Unlike the other houses, with their very noticeable cellars, her house had a cellar that lay flat with the ground. It was often covered by a large square rug, to keep extra dirt out, but just as she had expected, the rug was thrown aside revealing the flat doors. To anyone else, it may have looked like wooden boards that had sunk into the earth.

Djinjer slipped her fingers around the cellar door's handle and yanked up. It didn't budge, which meant one thing: her parents were hiding in the cellar. Djinjer yanked again, but still, nothing happened.

"Goodness gracious, girl," Beatrice said, catching Djinjer's attention. Djinjer also noticed the entire group she was with were actually waiting anxiously for something to happen. "You're a worgen now, use some of that beastly strength!" Beatrice, in her old age, grabbed onto the cellar door handle and pulled. At first, the door didn't budge, but with a snarl, Beatrice yanked the door open. Djinjer didn't know what overcame her. With tears blurring her vision, Djinjer sped past Beatrice and stormed downstairs.

"Mom? Dad?" she called out, bending slightly to escape hitting her head on the ceiling.

"_Djinjer_?" her dad called out from the darkness. Djinjer took the rest of the stairs in one large step. Sitting in the corner of the cellar was her mother and father, as well as the Wilson family. "Oh _my_ goodness," he whispered out.

Her mother immediately burst into tears, and as Djinjer took a step forward, her father quickly said, "Don't come any closer!"

The horror in his voice hit Djinjer harder than any Forsaken had. Were they really frightened of her? "I don't want to chance any of us becoming infected!"

"_Infected_?" Djinjer shook her head. "I'm your daughter."

"We know," her mother wiped her nose. "We visited you often before you apparently got a hold of your own mind."

Mrs. Wilson wrapped her arms around her mother, which seemed to send her mother into hysterics. "Lord Godfrey said you probably wouldn't recover…we lost hope that we'd ever see you again, Djinjer…we said good-bye."

"So what am I supposed to do? Just leave? Never approach you again?" Djinjer wiped at her eyes. "_Dad_…you don't think I know how I look? I _fought_ in Gilneas City against beasts that were slaughtering our people and now _I'm one of them_. But I'm not some wild creature. I'm your daughter and I want you to come back with me to Duskhaven. I want you to be _safe_."

"No," Mr. Wilson murmured. "We're safer here. And if we're lucky, none of the invading forces saw you come down here. You say you aren't wild…and from the looks of it, you're fighting for us…so get back out there and don't come back until they're all dead."

She turned her teary eyes on her father, whom slowly walked back to her mother. Mrs. Wilson released her mother so that her father could hold her mother. "Djinjer…until I know you're safe to be around, until I know it's safe out there…just _go_. We'll be fine. We have everything we need down here."

"But-"

"Djinjer," Beatrice was hunched down on the stairs, avoiding the ceiling as well. "They need time. All families do. My own sister sobbed for an entire week before she accepted my fate. You heard your family. They have everything they need. The best thing we can do for them is try to disguise those doors."

"Just put the carpet over the doors…cover it with dirt," said her father, refusing to turn around.

"Fine," Djinjer whispered. "Let's go," she directed to Beatrice.

"Wait!" her mother shouted, and before Djinjer could even turn around, her mother's small arms wrapped around her waist. "Be careful, my baby girl. I can't lose you a third time."

"I will, mom," she cleared her throat and after her mother released her, she made her way out of the cellar. With Beatrice's help, she closed the doors, covered it with the rug, and covered the rug with dirt. Even with her enhanced vision, there was no sign of the cellar with their clever disguise.

"I'm sorry," murmured the rogue.

Djinjer shook her head, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "It's fine," she replied. "Let's get going."

Djinjer couldn't help but feel worse with each step that she took towards the Allen's Cellar. Being shocked at how drastically things were changing around her…was quickly fading. A new emotion was beginning to settle inside of Djinjer and it wasn't a good one. How long had she been a worgen? When did she change exactly and what happened to her when she changed? Had she killed anyone? Had she personally infected someone with the Curse? Djinjer forced herself not to think about it.

The group quickly made their way back to the Allen's Cellar, where Lord Godfrey stood, leaning against the stone wall. "Well done, everyone. You may all be beasts, but you're all _our_ beasts. It's good you're all on our side. The death of the Dark Ranger should turn the tables for us. It's definitely-" But before he could finish, a horrifying tremor began. It was much like the first one they had ever experienced, back during Kimberly and Zathaniel's wedding.

The ground shook, Mrs. Hammond and her children screamed, and most of them lost their balance. "We have to get out of here!" screeched the druid, as the walls of the cellar cracked and one even buckled.

"What the devil is that?" shouted Godfrey, backing away from the wall he stood against. It sounded like the explosions from the catapults, but louder and not even 100 catapults could recreate it. It also sounded a lot like wood cracking and waves splashing against rocks, but for the life of her, she couldn't imagine what could create such a horrific sound.

And just as it always had, the shaking stopped and everything was silent. "Hold your positions, men!" Godfrey shouted, quite obviously shaken. "Those were not cannons or catapults! Get out there and see what's going on!"

Djinjer was the first to race upstairs, but that was only because she had such a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Oh, _god_."

"There's the prince and his men!" said the rogue from behind her.

"No!" shouted Elijah. "How could this happen?"

Djinjer stumbled a few feet forward and stared down into the water. Everything, the roads, the fields, the docks, the Forsaken ships, the houses…only pieces remained sticking out of the water. "Help!" shouted someone from the water.

"Quick! Save them!" The prince sprinted past her and dove into the water. She and the others did the same, but Djinjer wasn't interested in helping anyone else.

"No, no, no, no!" Djinjer swam quickly towards the one house that stood crooked upon a small piece of land. It was the Wilson's house. With her heart hammering in her ears, Djinjer dove under water. Half of her house was missing and though she tried to race forward, a hand caught onto her ankle. Djinjer spun around, prepared to kick the person hanging on, but found it was a young man and from the looks of it, he didn't have much time left.

Djinjer grabbed him and swam upwards, but just to her left was another man struggling to stay afloat. "I'm coming!" she shouted, swimming over to him. She then quickly swam back to the shore, placing the two men on the ground and just like the others, she quickly dove back into the water.

How many times, on her way to save her parents, did she come across another person struggling to survive? She couldn't just leave them. She couldn't ignore their cries for help, but the clock was ticking and with each person she saved, Djinjer began panicking more.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but apparently, the search for survivors was coming to an end. "Djinjer," Beatrice murmured the last time she threw two barely alive men upon the ground. She and two others were the only worgen still out in the water. With night quickly approaching, the water was already too cold for the normal, still-human Gilneans. This time, there were no human survivors that she could see. She swam over to where the remains of her house sat and dove as far as she could into the water.

Djinjer swam around the house, just as she would to find the cellar doors. But they were no where to be found and she didn't have time to look. Djinjer pushed herself upwards, gasping for air as she broke the surface of the water. She breathed heavily for a few seconds and dove back under, moving to what once was her living room floor. She clawed and tried her hardest to pull up planks from the floor, but it didn't work.

Again, she swam back up, but this time, her lungs began aching and she was quickly becoming dizzy. "Djinjer!" she could hear people yelling from the new shore. "Come back!" She dove again and this time, she tried harder to find the opening to the cellar. She found a small crack in the earth and began digging. Bubbles didn't escape, as she hoped they would…and instead of any signs of life, a small handkerchief floated out from the crack. It was her father's….

Her lungs were screaming for air, so Djinjer pushed herself upward to gain another lungs-full of air. "Help," someone croaked out. He coughed a few times and croaked out again, "Help."

Djinjer's heart twisted in her chest. Even if her parents were dead, she needed to get their bodies. She needed to give them a proper burial. But what of the dying man? Djinjer turned around in the water, swimming towards the soft murmurs of the man. "Please…"

The man was hunched over a piece of wood. His eyes were closed and his skin was pale white. "I'm coming!" she said loudly, hoping to gain his attention. He seemed startled to hear her voice. She quickly swam over to him and carefully placed him upon her back, his arms wrapped around her neck. She swam back to shore and placed the man down. "Th-thank you," he croaked out. "The land gave way from under our feet. …I thought I was dead. But I heard someone in the water…you saved me."

Exhausted, the man passed out and Djinjer turned around again. This time, however, someone placed a hand on her shoulder, gripping her tightly. "I have to get my parents!" she barked out.

"No," said the worgen.

"They're still down there!" she shrieked.

"They're gone…anyone else out there is gone. What will it accomplish if you bring back all of the bodies? You'll get sick out there. Right now, Gilneas needs you."

"My _parents_ need me!" Djinjer shouted back.

"I was on my way when it happened," murmured the prince. "The ocean…it swallowed everything…the land, the Forsaken…our men." His voice wavered, as if he wanted to cry. "We can't afford to lose anyone else. Everyone has done everything they could. …I'm sorry."

Djinjer shook her head and launched herself forward, but the worgen gripping her shoulder suddenly pulled her into a tight hug.

"They're _gone_, Djinjer. Your parents are _gone_." Djinjer stared at the lopsided house that was once beside her own. Tears filled her eyes and once more blurred her vision. "There's nothing you can do." The strength that made her hold her head high, that made her get through all of this…suddenly vanished and Djinjer crumbled in the worgen's arms. Her body shook with each sob as the pain finally seeped in. Everything she had known and loved was disappearing or being taken away from her. How could anyone survive such pain?

"Give her some time," the worgen said softly, turning her around in his arms.

"Let's get our injured back to Duskhaven. We need to inform the Mayor and move _everyone_ to higher ground. I don't think Duskhaven can survive another tremor like that. Even if you have to carry her, do it. We _can't_ lose anyone else, Zathaniel."

Djinjer froze in the worgen's arms and in response, he tightened his hold on her. Even Zathaniel was a worgen? She did her best to blink the tears back, to clear her vision as the others gathered their men and began making their way back to the town. Slowly, she looked up at Zathaniel and sure enough…if she had seen this worgen anywhere, she would have known it was him.

The braids bound in blue leather that he sported as a human was still there as a worgen, which Djinjer couldn't help but feel comforted by-for some odd reason. His goatee had lightened in color and the fur around his snout had a blue tint to it. And then Djinjer's heart froze. Her eyes fell upon the thinner fur at his neck. With a trembling hand, Djinjer traced her fingers along the scar. They were the scars left behind from a bite. Suddenly, a memory ran through her mind.

_She had been thrashing in pain against the cathedral floor. "Djinjer! No, not you! Not now!" Zathaniel was being held back by two of the huntsmen._

"_Ready your weapons, men," said Crowley. "She's turning into one of them."_

"_Djinjer! Fight it, damn it! Fight against the curse! You're stronger than that damn curse!" There was thuds, groans from the men holding him, and Zathaniel rushed over to her side. Before he could even drop to his knees, Djinjer sprung up, in her worgen form and bit. She remembered the feeling of his blood gushing into her mouth, but before she could kill him, Djinjer was shot twice in the back. She released him and at the same time, worgen came bursting in through every window, every door. Each of them howled and it came as a natural thing to do the same, even if Zathaniel was lying their, bleeding to death._

But how was he saved? Surely they were all doomed.

"C'mon," he said softly. "We need to get moving. Liam will probably want all of the survivors to head to Greymane Manor…we have to go to back to the town and see what we can do."

Djinjer pulled away from him, looking over her shoulder. He gripped her chin and forced her to look back at him. "You have to be strong. Your parents…Kim…everyone that died wouldn't want you to wallow in sorrow. Come with me," he said, standing and holding his hand out. The black mastiff that stood beside him snorted as if to back up his master. "Come," another wave of tears threatened to overcome her, but Djinjer held them back as she took his hand. "I refuse to leave behind any of my friends."

He started towards the town at a slow jog, which was easy for her to keep up with. She was tired, exhausted, and emotionally drained. But as soon as they entered the town, Djinjer knew Zathaniel was right. The town needed everyone they could to survive this.

The mayor sat side saddled, yelling out directions for scurrying people. "Leave behind _everything_! We do not have the time to sit around, gathering valuables. It's either your belongings or your lives! If you decide to stay behind, then no one will come back for you!"

"Mayor," Zathaniel, walked up to her. "What can we do?"

She forced out a smile as she looked at him, then looked at her and sighed. The mayor's eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying as well. "It's good to see you both, fur and all. Everyone is evacuating and heading to Greymane Manor. Once everyone is away safely…it'll be time to leave our home behind," her voice cracked, but the mayor quickly recovered. She cleared her throat and said with a firm voice, "We need to check on a few people that live south of Duskhaven. I'm not sure if they're even safe. Djinjer, check on Grandma Wahl, and do remember to be patient with her. You know she's not right up there."

"That's all?"

"No…you also need to check on the Hayward brothers. They don't get to town often, so make sure they know about the evacuation. If you have to, gather up Grandma Wahl _and_ the Hayward brothers…also. That orchard that had been abandoned?"

"What about it?" About three years ago, the orchard just south of town, where many wild horses grazed, was abandoned after its owner died.

"Lorna Crowley never really recovered after losing her father in Gilneas City. Since then, she's basically led the life of a hermit. The only visitor she's allowed into her house has been Krennan." She sighed and muttered, "You'd think she'd be a bit more reasonable, considering I leant her the house. Anyway, break the damn door down and force her to evacuate if she won't listen to reason. And Djinjer?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell her who you are…since she lost her father by your hands."

Djinjer froze and before she could say anything, the mayor turned her horse around and directed it towards the group of people, where she began yelling orders again. "I…killed him?"

"That's a bit unfair to say," Zathaniel sighed out. "We all knew the risks when we agreed to help distract the worgen. He, most of all, knew what could happen…what would happen. To say _you_ killed him is a bit harsh. And honestly, I don't know if he survived or died. All I know is that he was attacked by three worgen…and you were one of them."

"Thanks," Djinjer snapped out sourly, storming along the southern path leading out of Duskhaven. "After everything that _just_ happened, I _really_ needed to know I killed," but her throat tightened as she held back a sob.

"Djinjer," he sighed again, walking beside her. "Stop it. You need to gain some strength, girl, because if we all broke down each time something bad happened, we all would have been dead long ago. Now lead the damn way and stop blubbering."

"Alright," she whispered. Djinjer cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and picked up a jog as she made her way along the cobblestone road to the Orchard. Djinjer knew that from this moment on, Zathaniel wouldn't allow her to crumble again. And though she had lost so much during this horrible time, she was relieved to know that Zathaniel was okay.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **_Well, there's nothing to really say about this chapter. It worked out. :) You know, I always thought hunters were some of the hardest classes to write about. You always have a pet to deal with and there are some cases that I just don't see the pet working out on. Or mounts. =/ It's a bit weird when you think about how things work like that. Well, anyway...some people have been asking me why I chose to put Zathaniel with a rifle _and_ two pistols. 1) It just seems cooler and 2) pistols would be better for close range combat when his pup isn't around. :3  


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Djinjer had no choice but to put herself on auto-run as she ran beside Zathaniel. She knew where she was going and that was all she thought about. She didn't want to think about what had just happened, what was currently going on. Chances were, their lives would never be the same again, _if_ any of them even survived. With all the earthquakes and the ill luck, Djinjer couldn't help but wonder if maybe the world was ending. It certainly felt that way.

"Wait," Zathaniel grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. "That's the house?"

Djinjer blinked at the house before realizing what Zathaniel was talking about. "Yeah," she replied softly.

The door suddenly burst open and storming out of the small house was a gun toting Lorna Crowley. "Stay back!" she shouted, "I know how to use this thing!"

"Lorna," Zathaniel stepped out in front of Djinjer. Lorna looked at him, looked down at Brutus, her eyes met Djinjer's briefly and then she lowered her gun.

"Could it be? Is it you? By the Light! It's you, Zathaniel!" Brutus suddenly rushed forward, hopping up on his hind legs to get her attention. Djinjer was slightly amused when the brunette woman placed her gun on the ground and patted Brutus on the head. "I'd recognize that handsome boy anywhere! Yes, I would!"

"Lorna, we've been sent by Mayor Armstead to-"

"Evacuation, right?" Lorna picked up her gun and stood up. "Don't think I didn't feel that, Zathaniel. I heard it, too. The Mayor would be a fool _not_ to evacuate. But listen, Zathaniel. We're not going to make it very far without transportation, are we? If we just hightail it out of here, the Forsaken will catch up to us in no time at all. I've already rounded up as many horses as I could and spooked them to run north. I'm hoping they'll get far enough from Duskhaven to be safe when or if it goes. There are only five more out there and normally, I would go get them myself, but there's a snag."

"Snag?" Zathaniel chuckled. "What could keep Lorna Crowley away from saving her favorite animal?"

Lorna laughed nervously. "The last quake must've spooked Koroth, the ettin, down from the mountains. He's been going back and forth, blocking my way to the horses. If we don't get them soon, I fear that he will."

"Don't worry, we'll get them. You should go-"

"No," she said firmly. "Not until I know the horses are safe. I'll even ride one back to town if I have to."

Djinjer let out a soft sigh and slowly began walking towards the open field. "Is she okay?" she heard Lorna say softly.

"She's going through a lot, Lorna. But now really isn't the time to talk about it."

"I know. Get going and be safe."

"Sure will," he replied and then Djinjer came to a stop. She would need to be blind, deaf, and completely numb to not notice the ettin named Koroth. She remembered hearing stories about ettins, particularly as a child. "_Don't go too far from home or an ettin will get you!_" her mother used to scold.

Djinjer shook her head as she clenched her eyes shut. She didn't need to think of something so painful. She cleared her throat and opened her eyes again as Brutus nudged her with his head. He let out a short, quick bark and soon after, Zathaniel was beside her. "This doesn't look like it'll be fun." He paused, obviously waiting for her to reply. Realizing he wouldn't get one, Zathaniel added, "We'll need to be fast. Let's wait until he gets to the shore…then we'll take cover behind the shed and _hopefully_ he won't sniff us out."

"If he does, grab the horses and run for it. I'll distract him."

He huffed. "Djinjer, really now." Zathaniel sighed softly then bent over. "Stay here with Lorna, Brutus. I don't want to chance you being out there." Ever so obedient, Brutus ran back towards Lorna.

"Let's go," she snapped out, taking off at a quick run. She was more than irritated when Zathaniel kept up with her and appeared to be holding back. She didn't need him to stay by her side; she didn't want his help.

As planned, the two of them made their way behind the small shed, which looked as though it were ready to fall apart if they so much as leaned against it. "Djinjer," Zathaniel whispered, keeping his eye on the ettin. "Let's keep moving…something's distracting him."

Zathaniel grunted as she crawled over him and kept moving along the rocky side of the hill. "Stay low," he hissed out as she turned around. She didn't wait for him to join her as she stealthily made her way towards five grazing horses. They didn't even seem bothered by the fact that a giant creature with two heads wasn't that far away from them and he would most likely enjoy eating them for dinner.

"I'll tie the horses together. You hop on one and lead them out," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear him. "I'll distract him." That made her stop. Djinjer whipped around to stare at him.

"How?" she said just a bit too loud for comfort. Zathaniel shushed her, but Djinjer crouched down again and walked back over to him. "Why?"

"Do you know what the chances are of us getting passed him again with five horses? I really doubt he won't notice five horses thundering away. I mean, unless you've found a way for horses to run without making a sound."

"What are you going to do?"

He sighed. "It's not important. When you get the horses together, I want you to push forward and don't look back. I'll distract him and if I live, I'll meet back up with you at Grandma Wahl's."

"But how do you know where she lives?"

"Djinjer, how stupid do you think I am? There's _one_ more house over there." He shot a thumb over his shoulder. "If that's not the Wahl's house, then I'll meet up with you at that house. Now get going!" Djinjer turned around, but not before muttering out, "Idiot."

The so-called wild horses seemed very used to human interaction and even more used to worgen. They merely looked at her as if wondering what she was up to as she approached them. She took the rope from Zathaniel and immediately began bringing the horses together, leaving some slack on the ropes that held them. "Alright, now what?" she asked, but not receiving an answer, Djinjer turned around. Zathaniel was no where to be found.

"Zathaniel!" she hissed out.

"Get on and go!" he snarled from a near by cluster of trees. Her stomach churned. What if this was the last time she saw him?

With a sigh, Djinjer carefully climbed onto the one horse that wasn't tied up. She nudged it to move forward, but it didn't move. She sighed and nudged it again, "C'mon…go. Go, please?"

"Smack its rump!"

"You say that _far_ too easy and comfortably," she snapped out, but did as he said. With one good smack to the horse's backside, it took off at a quick speed and to her pleasure, the others followed without a problem.

Djinjer's heart suddenly lurched as the large ettin turned around. A very confused look over came one of his faces. A single shot rang out in the dusk, which made her even more frightened. The ettin slapped his hand over his right head's right eye and let out a loud groan. At that moment, Djinjer knew she was safe. She and the horses had already reached the orchard.

"Where's Zathaniel?" Lorna shouted over the barking dog.

"He's back there distracting-"

"He's _distracting_ Koroth? _Alone_? What are you doing just sitting there? Go back for him, you daft animal!" Djinjer hopped off of the horse, glaring at Lorna. "I'm…I'm sorry." She sighed. "We've got the horses. I'll make sure Duskhaven gets them." Another shot echoed through the night and both she and Lorna ran towards the gates. Koroth was swiping at the trees angrily, but it seemed he didn't notice the large black worgen racing across the field.

"Get to Duskhaven!" Djinjer snarled. "Brutus! Let's go!"

The dog obediently followed her as she maneuvered through the orchard trees. Just as she slid down the rocky hill, Zathaniel entered the yard of Grandma Wahl. Grandma Wahl had been alone ever since she remembered. She had also been old ever since Djinjer could remember. But she was kind and _very_ loving, always baking for people. As Djinjer got older, she realized why Grandma Wahl went out of her way to make baked goods…it was because she wanted a visitor. Even if the visitor was a child, it always brought a smile to the old woman's face.

Djinjer quickly joined Zathaniel, who muttered out, "Sure did make him pissed." He shook himself, much like a wet dog. "You can _still_ hear that brute!" Djinjer didn't even strain to hear the large two headed ettin growl and snarl angrily. "He'll probably go back up to his mount and sulk for a while," Zathaniel chuckled out.

"Maybe," she murmured. Something was off. Even if Grandma Wahl was losing her mind lately, she always kept her rose bushes in check. They were always beautiful and not a single one of them were damaged or had a petal missing. The rows of flowers were…disturbed. "I have a bad feeling."

Djinjer quickly stormed towards the house, but was both surprised and horrified to find the door wide open. "Grandma?" she called out, walking into the house.

The old, gray haired woman sat in the corner of the room at her small table. "A visitor!" she smiled and quickly stood up. "Are you staying for tea, sweetheart?" How could this woman so easily welcome in a beast like herself? What would she do if a Forsaken came bolting into her house?

"No, Ms Wahl. We have to leave. All of Duskhaven is evacuating _right_ now."

"Leave? Now?" Grandma wringed her hands for a moment while looking around quickly. "Well, if I must, then I must. But will you be a sweetheart and find something for me?" She smiled sweetly at Djinjer.

"S-sure," Djinjer murmured, not entirely certain what she would need to find, considering everything was where it should be.

"I've lost my favorite book and won't leave without it."

Djinjer couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Grandma Wahl, we have to leave _now_. There's no time to be chit-chatting, or time for tea, or finding books! Half of Duskhaven was just swallowed by the ocean. Mayor Armstead specifically-"

"Dear, just find the book, will you?"

Djinjer sighed and turned to Zathaniel at the door, whom shrugged at her. "What's the book look like?" Djinjer asked, slowly turning her attention back to Ms Wahl.

"Oh it's a white book. But, I'm afraid it's been worn out over the years. It does say 'Recipes' on the cover, dear. I remember reading it outside, but it was _too_ sunny, so I came inside. I think-"

"Alright," Djinjer didn't bother listening to anything else Grandma prattled on about. She and Zathaniel quickly looked around, but really didn't see anything. "Found anything?"

"No," Zathaniel called out. "Find the book, Brutus! Find the book!" Brutus sped past her. "Hope that works. I can't believe you told her we could all die soon and she wants us to find a book."

"Grandma hasn't been _well_ lately," Djinjer murmured out, lifting a turned over bucket.

Brutus let out a bark, then sped past her again. "I don't think that's the book."

"_No_, Brutus! A _book_! Not a mouse!"

Despite wanting to stay angry and upset, Djinjer smiled. She turned and just then, she saw something near Grandma's veranda. Djinjer quickly made her way over, sighing in relief as she bent over to pick up the book. "Found it!" she called out, turning around. The book was stained and obviously old, but still said "Recipes" on the cover.

"Behind you!" Zathaniel shouted.

Djinjer quickly spun around, locking eyes with the Forsaken soldier. She stumbled backwards as he swung his sword. Though he barely managed to hit her, he still managed to knick her arm. Several shots rang out at once. She knew those sounds. They came from Zathaniel's pistols. The already worn out looking Forsaken dropped quicker than she thought he would.

"Are you okay?"

"Yep," Djinjer murmured, ignoring the burning sensation running across her arm. She held the book up. "Got it!"

"Bring it in to the old woman and let's get going," Zathaniel murmured out.

Djinjer was already on her way. As soon as she walked into the door, Djinjer found Grandma packing a small bag. She lurched upwards and smiled bright. "Why thank you, Djinjer! I hope you didn't peek!" Djinjer froze. She hadn't told Grandma who she was. How could she possibly recognize her even as a worgen? "Always such a good little girl. You know, I denied all of those rumors about you kissing that rich girl. Poppycock!" she let out an unnerving laugh. "What was it you wanted again?"

"Evacuation," Djinjer murmured.

"Oh, right. The evacuation orders." she patted her bag of clothes. "Well, I can't be expected to go out in public like this, can I?" Grandma Wahl wore a simple black and white gown. Most women wore something along those lines of clothing, especially the country women. "Go get me my good clothes. They're on the clothesline right outside."

"Grandma, we really don't have time to keep running errands. What you're wearing is _fine_."

"You young people truly have no manners! Were you raised by ogres?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then go get my clothes, sweetie."

Djinjer didn't argue. She walked outside and meant to sigh again, but found Zathaniel holding out an armful of clothes. "There."

"You're an angel," she muttered, gathering the clothes from his arm. "Grandma…here you go."

"You're a peach, Djinjer! A ripe peach! Thanks!" Djinjer watched as the old woman shoved her clothes into the bag, buckled it and turned to Djinjer again, this time more hesitantly than before.

"Right! About the evacuation, dear." She chewed her lip for a moment, wringing her hands again. "I just cannot leave without my cat. He's an adorable orange tabby. More orange than your hair ever was." She smiled. "Chance's favorite spot to play is a broken down cart near the arbor just north east of here. Could you, by chance, go and get him? Then I promise, I _promise_, we'll be on our way.

Djinjer once more walked out of the house and this time, it was Zathaniel that sighed. "Already saw it," he murmured, pushing himself off of the house. He took a few steps around the house and pointed to the orange cat sitting calmly on a rock _beside_ the broken down wagon.

"I'll go get him," Djinjer murmured. The cat didn't move as she approached it and after getting closer, she knew why. The cat mewed softly, obviously frustrated by the tight and heavy net around it. "What did you get yourself into, Chance?" She sighed and withdrew her sword. "Be still, baby."

A throaty laugh caught her attention and Djinjer quickly stood up. "I'll be taking this cat. It seems to work as the perfect bait!" He swooped up the cat and threw it over his shoulder into an odd shaped container. "Prepare to die now, _fool_!"

Djinjer attacked first. She was tired of waiting for these damn zombies to make their move. She slammed into the soldier, slicing him upwards in what would have been a fatal attack for a human, but seemed to do very little to him. The cat mewed and cried loudly, clawing at the container.

"You do _not_ mess with my kitty, you son of a mongrel!" shouted Grandma Wahl as she ran across the field with a very confused looking Zathaniel staring after her.

Djinjer took the Forsaken's surprise as an advantage and buried her sword into his abdomen. Again, it did very little, but caught his attention again. A snarl, however, caught both of their attention again. Wearing Grandma Wahl's dress was a gray and white worgen carrying a rolling pin. Djinjer had no choice but to quickly back away as the worgen Grandma Wahl slammed her rolling pin into the head of the Forsaken soldier over and over again. "Take that! And that! And that, too!"

When the Forsaken fell down, with his brains spewing all over the ground, Grandma Wahl kicked him over and yanked apart the container that held a frightened Chance. The cat hopped into her arms and without so much as another word, she sped back towards the house, passing by an even more confused Zathaniel.

Djinjer walked over to the soldier, withdrawing her sword form his abdomen. "What was that all about?" she murmured to herself. If Grandma had been infected, then she should have been completely feral with this transformation. And if she had complete control over herself…what did that mean? Djinjer quickly ran back towards Zathaniel, whom was now peeking through the window. "She's normal again, Djinjer. Look at her."

Djinjer peeked her head through the door, which caught the very human Grandma Wahl's attention. "Thank you so much for finding him. I hope it wasn't too much trouble." She looked around her house and placed her cat on the bed. "I suppose now is as good a time to leave as any. I have my clothes, my important books…and my darling boy, Chance. I hope I'm not forgetting anything." She smiled at Djinjer. "Will you be coming, too, dear?"

"No," Djinjer replied. "I have to see to the Hayward boys."

"Such rascals they are, too. Remember that time I caught little Sebastian looking up your dress?" She bit back the groan of irritation. "I suppose I'll see you wherever we go with the others." A sudden sadness washed over Ms Wahl. "You did the impossible, Djinjer. You convinced Grandma Wahl to leave her home." She grabbed up her bag and held Chance tightly. "Your are something else, let me tell you."

Djinjer smiled weakly. "Just follow the road north. If you stick to the road, you should be fine."

Grandma nodded, grabbed a hat, and walked out of the house. "Good night, young man!" she said to Zathaniel, noticing him for the first time tonight.

She joined Zathaniel outside, whom was already making his way to the Hayward fishery. "Odd bird." He murmured, shooting her a wolfish grin. "I take it that's the Hayward property?"

"Yep," Djinjer replied, but as they neared the property, Djinjer's heart sank.

"Oh, no. Hurry, Djinjer!" She and Zathaniel cleared the distance to the fishery with no problem at all. Sebastian hopped to and fro between boats, doing things here and there while some of his brothers did their best to fight off even more Forsaken soldiers. Brutus sped forward, launching himself at a soldier, and just like that, Zathaniel aimed and shot his gun.

"You here to help?" Sebastian called out. She left Zathaniel's side to make her way over to Sebastian, whom seemed paler and thinner than she remembered.

"We're here to inform you of the evacuation. Mayor Armstead doesn't want to chance losing anyone else!"

"Evacuation? Well, we had that very same idea all on our own after these Forsaken started showing up. We were thinking the water would be the safest way out of here. Unfortunately our boats didn't come out from that last earthquake unscathed. I need some additional supplies to finish my repairs: wood, tar and my tools. If you can get them for me, my brothers and I can make it out of here before the next wave of them," he motioned towards the Forsaken, whom were being picked off a bit easier with Zathaniel's help, "come. Those Forsaken ships sank way too close to our fishery. All the survivors are making their way here and, as you can see, we're a bit outnumbered."

"I'll get your supplies, Sebastian." He seemed alarmed at his name being used by a worgen, but Djinjer didn't have time to stop and explain. She withdrew her sword as she made her way around the crowd. "Cover me!" she said to Zathaniel, whom nodded. She gathered the wood and brought it back to Sebastian, but as she moved closer towards the tar, one Forsaken noticed what she was doing.

It growled at her and so she growled back, which caught her a bit off guard. She hadn't expected to sound so…frightening. Djinjer disposed of him quickly, picked up the bucket of tar and did her best to make it back to the ship without spilling any. Tar on human skin was pretty bad. On fur? She's probably have better luck shaving her fur off. The tools, it turned out, were inside the cramped house, but as soon as she got those together, she found that the Forsaken number was quickly diminishing.

"This is great. I should be able to finish the repairs in no time. Thanks for your help…whoever you are. This ship is ready to sail. Now you go and tell Miss Armstead that we're not going to be part of the land evacuation. We Haywards have been men of the sea for generations. If we're to leave our home, then we'll do it by sea."

The men suddenly cheered as the final soldier was killed. "Thanks, you two! Felt like we'd never be done with them!"

"You won't be," Zathaniel murmured. "If you're going by sea, like this one said you are, you'll need to keep your eyes peeled for Forsaken. They're still in the water out there and as you now well know, a simple ship sinking won't do much harm against them. Keep your weapons on you at _all_ times."

"Course we will! Can't be much harder than fishing up sharks!" chuckled another brother.

"We need to get on our way and _you _lot need to get sailing immediately." Djinjer shot Zathaniel a look. She could tell he was beginning to become as anxious as she was.

"Be careful," Sebastian murmured as the brothers and their business partners gathered food and began loading up the boats.

"You too," Djinjer replied and with a nod from Zathaniel, the two of them began jogging back to town. Neither one of them said anything as they neared the town. It was probably because it was well into night time and she, at least, was exhausted. She was also famished. If they didn't get to stop and eat soon, Djinjer knew she wouldn't be able to push forward.

"Almost there," he said, as if reading her thoughts. "There's the mayor."

Djinjer looked up and sure enough, there was the mayor, still upon her horse, talking to a few others on their very familiar horses. "I can't go on," Djinjer groaned out. "I'm so tired."

"No, you're not. Keep moving." She wanted to argue. No, actually, she wanted to rip his face off and scream at him until he fully understood that she was tired. But having him there beside her? Each time she slowed, Zathaniel gave her a good smack anywhere to wake her up. She felt more like a mule than a warrior.

"Where are the Hayward brothers?" The mayor asked as she turned to them on her horse.

"They're going to evacuate by sea," Zathaniel answered, pinching her arm. She snarled at him, which gained her a worried look from the mayor.

"It's time for everyone to head to safety. That includes you both of you. Head to Greymane Manor. Liam is anxiously awaiting for the rest of us…especially you, Zathaniel."

"What about you?" Zathaniel asked.

"Don't worry about me. I'll make sure that everyone makes it out of here in one piece. Yes, even the few ferals we have in the pens. The watchmen are loading them up _right_ now. Liam brought word that Krennan was able to get more mandrake essence and has whipped up a large batch of his potion. Once you get to the manor, speak to Queen Greymane. Let her know we'll only be a few more minutes."

"Just hurry," Djinjer murmured. "We can't lose you just for a few ferals."

"Maybe…but remember, Djinjer, they are people, too." She smiled sweetly at Djinjer, "Now go. Be swift."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** _There were a lot of questions about Zathaniel's transformation, or what happened after Djinjer started turning, so I decided to slow things down and inform all of you. Now, I don't know if any of you realized it or not, but when you get to the manor, its very dark (I didn't actually check it was daytime or not-go me!) and when the cut-scene happens with the King, it's clearly day time. :3 I also never really knew how the last part of the fic happened in WoW time :3 so...yeah...hope it isn't awful. ENJOY!  


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Djinjer could barely keep her eyes open as she followed Zathaniel to the manor. Sure, she knew the way there, but with Zathaniel it seemed…as if he was going home. "Stay awake," he barked out, giving her another good smack.

"Stop it," she whined out. "I'm going to be more bruised from you than the Forsaken."

"Good," he said. "At least you'll make it to the manor." She followed him in silence for a while, wishing Brutus was larger so that she could just have him drag her. "We need to get there quickly. Remember, we're on foot. The others will be on horses with a wagon full of feral worgen. We can't let everyone be surprised by that."

"Right," she yawned out, which earned her a smack to the ear. "If you don't stop that, I swear I'll rip your throat out!"

"You already did that," he said…and this time his voice wasn't joking or lighthearted, but more…bitter and angry.

"What do you mean?" Was that flash back real?

"Now's not the time to talk about it," he said, picking up speed. Djinjer let out a groan but pushed to follow him closely. "It's close to 10," he said looking up at the moon. "I'll handle the talking…you find somewhere to rest."

When they came to a stop, Djinjer stumbled forward, crashing into the ground. "Nice," he murmured, helping her back up.

"Sorry," she murmured. People were standing everywhere. Some of the men appeared as if they had just woken up and the others looked too nervous to sleep. Lorna Crowley was there with her gun, talking to Marie Allen, whom appeared to be checking out a carriage. He yanked her inside of the grand manor and walked forward, to a woman wearing an elegant white dress.

"Queen Greymane," Zathaniel dropped to a knee and bowed his head low. By the time she realized she should do the same, the Queen spoke.

"There's no point in being so formal now, Zathaniel. Stand tall, and look me in the eyes when you speak to me. I've lost my sister and her husband. You're all that's left of them." Even half unconscious, Djinjer caught onto that. She blinked a lot, suddenly very awake. If Zathaniel was all that was left of Queen Greymane's sister and her sister's husband…then that meant…

Djinjer's eyes met those of the young woman that had been the Maid of Honor at Zathaniel's wedding. It now seemed to make sense as to why she looked a lot like Zathaniel and why the prince seemed so close to him. "Mayor Armstead and the others are on their way with _all_ of the feral worgen that they have captured. Should I go find Krennan?"

"No need," the Queen said softly. At that moment, the princess looked away from her and smiled at Zathaniel. "Krennan is in the lab, brewing up his potion. Who is your friend here?" The Queen smiled at her and for a moment, Djinjer felt like dropping to her knees. She didn't feel worthy of looking at the Queen, whom-even in her old age-was still beautiful.

"This is Djinjer Foreman," Zathaniel placed his hand on the small of her back, gently pushing her forward.

"Djinjer. I've heard much about you. I understand you were crucial in my family's survival during the outbreak in Gilneas City. For that, I thank you…and beg for your forgiveness."

"F-forgiveness?"

"Yes, Djinjer. Had you not risked your life to save my family, you may have never fallen to the Curse. For that, I apologize." Djinjer fought for words, but didn't quite know what to say. What does one say to a Queen when _she_ apologizes to_ you_? Djinjer only nodded. "You two must be worn to the bone. Take her to the kitchen, Zathaniel. Our staff is steadily preparing food for the people of Duskhaven. Get her something to eat and take her to the library on the second floor. The ballroom is quickly filling with our new visitors."

"Yes, Aunt Mia." Zathaniel gave a low bow, then shot her a glare. Picking up on his hint, Djinjer attempted to bow as well, but she was sure she looked quite awkward and not at all graceful.

Though Djinjer followed Zathaniel closely, she couldn't help but look around. She had never been in a home so elegant, so beautiful. In fact, Kimberly's house looked quite shabby compared to his one. But before Djinjer could think of her own home, she ended her thoughts and focused on Zathaniel's back. She would do anything not to think about her family….

"Wait out here," Zathaniel murmured with his hand on what she assumed was the kitchen door. She didn't even bother saying anything or trying to hear what was going on. Instead, she merely waited, which wasn't very long. Zathaniel returned with a bundle and grabbed her wrist. They went back into the main room, up the large staircase and before Djinjer realized it, they were outside.

Small torches lit the entire balcony with a dim, relaxing light. "Here is good," he said softly, sitting on a rocking chair. Djinjer sat on the one next to his and sighed in pure delight. It was the first time that she had really rested since she "woke" up. "Enjoy," he said, handing her the bundle.

"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, pulling open the delicious smelling collection.

"After you're done," he replied, leaning back in the chair. Though the chairs were technically too small for them, they were still quite comfortable.

She couldn't help tearing into the large turkey legs that had been roasted. She wasn't so much interested in the bread as she would have been as a human, but she wasn't about to get picky with her food. Djinjer ate the entire turkey leg and an entire loaf of bread before she turned her attention back to Zathaniel. "What happened?"

He cracked open an eye and grinned. "'What happened' when?"

"When it got quiet outside of the cathedral," she murmured. "I remember feeling sick. I remember pain. I…I think I remember…attacking you." Zathaniel only looked out into the night sky. "Did…I do that to you?" she reached out to him, touching the scar on his neck.

"Yes," he replied. "But what does it matter? Everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?"

"But why? Why would I do something like that?"

"Djinjer…it wasn't _you_ that did it. It was the Curse. I was stupid to get that close to you, but…can you blame me? You and I aren't so different, you know. We both lost Kimberly…both lost our parents. Just about everyone we loved and cared about is gone. When I saw you writhing in pain…" he closed his eyes. "It was like I was failing again."

Djinjer thought for a moment before asking, "What happened after that?"

"Crowley happened after that. So many worgen, including you, were going on a rampage. Many of our comrades were killed, but all of the blood shed distracted the worgen. Crowley saw this. He fired every gun, fought until he was bloodied, and made sure a few of us got out of there, via the secret passage behind the alter. The last thing I saw was him being bitten by you." He sighed and rocked a bit in his chair. Djinjer suddenly lost her appetite and placed the bundle of food back on his lap.

"I lost consciousness for a while. When I awoke, we were just outside of the city and a priest had just finished healing me. She said it was too late. I was infected and there wasn't anything else I could do about it. So I did everything I could while I was still myself. I joined Liam's side. I did my best to lift his spirits but he was quite a lost cause. He believed that _he_ and _he alone_ failed his people. But we all felt that way, Djinjer. Most of us made our way to Duskhaven. Some went on towards Stormglen Village. Others have been here since Gilneas fell." He picked up a turkey leg and stripped half of it with one bite.

"When did you turn?"

"I didn't turn as fast as you had. There's a theory that when a person is worked up, the Curse moves through their blood faster than it would if we stayed calm. I lasted a week without turning. But when I did turn, a few others and myself shocked Duskhaven, particularly Krennan and the mayor. We were calm and level headed. We weren't feral at all. A few were, but they were easily taken care of. They were the first to be experimented on. It's because of them that Krennan developed a potion using our blood and other herbs. When it worked, he started giving it out to every feral worgen we captured and eventually, we became what we are now. A culture composed of worgen and humans coexisting together peacefully."

Djinjer sighed softly, but didn't say anything. Zathaniel kept eating in silence, throwing scraps to the floor. _Why_ did she always forget about Brutus? He was constantly by Zathaniel's side and yet, she didn't notice him that often. He was too quiet for a dog. That's what it was. "A few others decided to start hunting the ferals," he murmured, grabbing her attention once more. "At first, I agreed with everyone else: hunting ferals was a pretty stupid idea, considering ferals often moved in packs."

She watched him pet Brutus, whom was more interested in chewing on the large turkey bone. "I ran into your parents that same night."

"You did?" He nodded. "What happened?"

"Your mother was sobbing so much she could barely talk, so your father did all the talking. 'You have to find her if she's still out there,' your father said. Everyone begged us to search for their loved ones. In the beginning, we caught ferals in a stupid fashion. If we saw one, we got its attention with a human and then we-the calm ferals-attacked. We couldn't get anymore infected, so why not be the ones to get injured?" He chuckled. "The prince was the only man to really volunteer to be the bait. But I think Liam knew it was our only chance at recovering from this tragedy."

"We had perfected everything by the time you came across us." Djinjer leaned closer towards him, listening intently. Zathaniel grinned at her and continued the story. "Our techniques had perfected _so_ much that many human men went out into the wilds to catch ferals while we worgen stayed behind to teach the new worgen how to deal and cope with what they now were. It was shocking to see such wildness in them fade as they became civilized and after a time, it was as if _nothing_ had ever happened. And then they caught you. I remember when they brought you into town. Out of all the ferals, you were the only one sitting there…calm and composed. I didn't need your parents' tale of your scars to know it was you."

"How'd you know?" she asked softly.

"Well first of all, you still had your piercings," he chuckled. "Secondly…I had seen a lot of worgen and I've learned something from our coats. Sure, we're mostly dark colors but there are strands of our human hair color in our fur. When I got close enough to see the red strands…it was your red and I knew." He shrugged. "I have no idea what's going to happen, Djinjer, but for what it's worth, I hope we remain friends for a long time."

"Who knows, maybe I'll give you some pointers on picking up girls," his laughter startled her, but Djinjer smiled. Zathaniel was right. The two of them were a lot alike and in this time and hour, they would need to rely on each other.

[The Next Morning]

Djinjer awoke with a start, immediately falling to her hands and knees as she had lurched out of the rocking chair. She ignored the stiffness in her back and joints and instead, focused on the intense earthquake. She grabbed onto the railing of the balcony and forced herself to stand up. As soon as it ended, Djinjer perked her ears up, listening for anything besides the panicked screams and cries from within the manor. Her head snapped to the right. She found Zathaniel and King Genn scrambling down the stairs from around a tower.

"All of Duskhaven is gone!" shouted Zathaniel as Genn sped past them into the manor. "To make matters worse, _more_ Forsaken ships are headed this way! They even have airships making their way here!"

"So what exactly do we do?" Djinjer asked.

"We're getting _everyone_ out of the manor. We're too vulnerable here. The King is going to have every carriage packed with as many people as we can fit and we're heading to Stormglen. Hopefully we can find shelter there…at least until we can figure something else out."

Djinjer didn't utter a single word as she followed Zathaniel into the house. People were scrambling, to get out of the house. "You _must_ go. I cannot leave until our people safe, Mia," the King pulled his sobbing wife away from him. "Tess, take your mother and go. I want you both out of here, _now_!"

"Yes, father," she replied, her own eyes glistening. "Come, mother. Liam will have a carriage ready."

The King was then approached by Lorna and Krennan, but whatever was going on, Djinjer didn't get a chance to see. Djinjer stumbled backwards until she fell on the floor. Her head was swimming and all of a sudden, the room wasn't filled with panicking people. It was filled with frightened prey. Though she screamed at herself to stop, though she tried her hardest to keep from moving, Djinjer rose to her feet and bared her teeth to Zathaniel. "Djinjer," but that was all he managed to get out. Djinjer slammed into him, scratching and biting at him. It came as a rude awakening when he bit back much harder.

She yelped loudly as she was sent soaring through the air until she hit a wall with such force that it dazed her for a bit. "Krennan!"

"I've got some right here, but how do we make her drink?"

Djinjer shook her head as she slowly got to her hands and knees. "Just give me word and I'll-"

"_No_!" Zathaniel snarled. "You will not kill her!"

"Fine, how about I just let her kill us all?"

"Shut up, the both of you!" the King shouted. "Zathaniel, do anything to distract her, _I'll_ give her the potion, even if I have to lose an arm in the process! We need _everyone_ to survive this invasion."

Djinjer let out another yelp as she was forced to the floor. She thrashed and writhed, hoping to be free of the traitor's grasp. He was no worgen! He was a filthy human that deserved nothing more than death! "I can't pin her down _and_ hold her head still!" he shouted.

A soft hand dug into her mane, holding her down. And then, much to her displeasure, small flask was forced into her mouth, right behind her razor sharp, curse-infecting teeth. She had no choice but to swallow the hot, bubbling liquid. "There." The human backed away, but not entirely out of arms reach. It was getting harder to focus…she couldn't fight against the traitor anymore. Djinjer simply fell limp against the floor.

"I wouldn't get off of her yet," Krennan murmured.

"For some reason, I can't help but find the humor in that statement," Zathaniel murmured. She was already coming back to her senses if she thought of them by who they were instead of what they were. The pressure on her limbs disappeared, which meant one thing: she was no longer pinned. Something surged inside of Djinjer and again, she couldn't control what she was doing. Djinjer turned around and threw herself at Zathaniel, ready to claw him to death. He held her back, but the surprise of her attack really caught him off guard and all Zathaniel could do was scramble against her, biting her flailing hands.

Djinjer let out a roar and batted him with all of her strength. It proved to be effective and yet…

The King let out a shout of pain and Zathaniel quickly backed away from him, whimpering. "You _mongrel_!" Lorna shouted and before Djinjer could even faint, she was thrown to the floor as a bullet ripped through her shoulder.

Djinjer faded in and out of her feral mind. She wanted to get back up and attack them all…but the human didn't allow it.

She groaned softly as she listened to what was going on around her. "It's bad," Lorna said, which was quickly followed by Zathaniel's panicked voice, "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," the King hissed out.

"Drink now. It may prevent you from turning, or at least you'll have your mind when you _do_ turn.

"Everyone is on their way to Stormglen. …Father? Father!" Liam's voice was just as panicked as Zathaniel. "What happened? Did she-"

"No. It was me."

"Don't blame yourself! That beast went feral, lost its mind and attacked Zathaniel. She hit him and he just fell."

"I'm old," the King murmured. "Not quite as fast as I used to be. Sliced right through my skin."

Djinjer groaned again. Her head was throbbing.

"I gave him a potion. It should buy him some time. Go on, Liam, take your father and the others and get going. I'll remain here with Zathaniel, Lorna, and her."

"No. I'm going with the King and Prince."

"We have our sharpshooter," Liam murmured. "Krennan and Zathaniel will need you…especially since Zathaniel will need to keep _her_ in check."

"Let the beast bleed out where she is. She is feral."

"Lorna," the King's voice held such dominance in it. "Do as Liam says."

"We cannot let anyone know what has happened here. Not yet," Liam muttered.

There was some shuffling, then: "I'm not _that_ old, boy," the King chuckled. "I can walk on my own."

Their footsteps pounded in her ears. Her head fell to the side and though she tried her hardest to see, the only thing she _could_ make out was the large black mastiff sitting beside her. Finally Djinjer closed her eyes and was unable to open them again. She wondered if she would ever wake up again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** _YOU CAN FOLLOW ME ON **TWITTER** NOW! That's right! Now you can follow me on Twitter for updates on both of my fics (primarily this one since I'm focusing on it more) as well as little tid bits of information. Just go to **twitter . com /SerasDjinjer **(if FF isn't showing it, then obviously put /SerasDjinjer behind the twitter URL) and if that doesn't work then Twitter is being stupid. :( Anyway... I always thought it was weird how Crowley magically knew about his daughter and I thought it was really freaking strange that in game, you see a human walking back and forth in the Blackwald, so I put two and two together. Hope you enjoy. :) Sorry about any mistakes that may have been made._

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Djinjer awoke with a groan. She slowly sat up in bed, but found that the room was completely unfamiliar. With her head throbbing, Djinjer forced herself out of bed. Quietly, she made her way over to the balcony, gripping it as she looked down to the first floor. She could see Mayor Armstead standing with an unfamiliar woman. They spoke quickly and not entirely in hushed tones. She leaned over a bit more and found Lorna Crowley sitting on the bottom step of the stairs with her gun ready for action, though Lorna never looked more tired since Djinjer had first seen her. There were a few more people standing or sitting around, talking or eating.

She sighed softly and made her way back to her bed, flopping down on it. "Is she awake?" Her ears twitched at the sound of the mayor's slightly louder voice.

"I hear movement," Lorna replied dully.

Djinjer bit back a groan and stood up again, walking back to the railing. "I'm awake."

"How are you feeling?" the mayor asked and Djinjer couldn't help but interpret it to mean, "Are you feeling more human?"

"Fine," she replied with a snort.

The Mayor walked closer, keeping her eyes locked with Djinjer's, "We're in Stormglen, now." She let out a nervous and forced out chuckle. "All this time and Stormglen's been left mostly in tact."

"That's a good thing, right?" she asked, noting the mayor's upset tone.

The mayor shifted and sighed. "The Forsaken are still working their way inland, but…Stormglen will make a fine place to rest our feet for a night or two." She smiled weakly. Djinjer had always thought Mayor Gwen was a beautiful woman. In fact, she was still beautiful now, but the Mayor seemed to have lost a bit of her youth and spark…but who hadn't?

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, feeling even more worn out with just that question.

"The other half of town is overrun with spiders, so I've asked the villagers to stay away from there. Perhaps you'd like to join the others in helping clear them out?" When Djinjer didn't reply, the mayor added, "I'm certain our injured men and women will sleep more soundly if they know someone's keeping those eight-legged beasts at bay."

Djinjer held back a sigh and looked over her shoulder. "Sure," she said, turning back to the mayor. "I'll be out in a bit." Djinjer slowly moved back to her bed and sat on it. Just as slowly, she began putting on her gear again. This time, she noticed, she had gloves and something with a note on it that said, "Put these around your lower limbs. If ever we can get you all to transform back to humans, they'll be boots. Neat idea, right?"

She crumbled the note and flicked it to the other side of the room. She didn't know what purpose these so called boots would do for her, but as Djinjer sat there, she didn't really care. Tears filled her eyes and a few even managed to escape. Part of her wished Gilneas' slow and evident demise would hurry up already. She wanted to die before it all became too painful, before she lost anyone else.

Djinjer took a deep breath, attached her sword's sheath her to herself and made her way downstairs, where she met Lorna's gaze. "If you can hardly stand," she said to Lorna, "then you should sleep."

Lorna didn't say anything as Djinjer walked out of the building. It was disheartening to see so many people with makeshift tents or sleeping bags out in the open. People huddled together for warmth. Most slept, but some seemed to be deep in thought. She looked to her right and found more tents and people, then to her left, where she found what she was looking for.

Worgen were moving back and forth, carrying spider legs and piling them up while throwing the bodies over the stone wall. There were gunshots and every now and then, Djinjer could hear the unmistakable sound of blades hitting rock.

Djinjer made her way over to the nearest group, whom appeared to be guards rather than actual soldiers. "'Ello, Djinjer," said another familiar voice, one that she hadn't heard in a long time. Djinjer immediately eyed the right guard. Obviously seeing the confusion Djinjer had, she chirped out, "It's Aubrey," then snorted. Aubrey's worgen form suited her. She was a rich, thick brown worgen, but somehow, Aubrey had kept her human essence. She smiled the same, and even spoke with less of a growl than anyone else had.

"Hello, Aubrey," she replied, feeling slightly confused.

"Well, now that you're here," she rocked up on her tiptoes and stretched, then took a few stumbling steps backward. "Gotta message for the mayor." She winked, "Take post."

"What?" But Aubrey was already making her way back to the building she had just left.

"Just stand there and make sure nothing gets past us," said a male worgen beside her. "Aubrey just needs to report to the mayor. Our human replacements are getting some well-deserved sleep."

Djinjer nodded and took up Aubrey's position near the make shift gate. "The spiders keep coming in alarming numbers," he spoke far too calmly, which was actually a bit unnerving. "Their lair must be close by."

As the male fell silent, Djinjer stared out into the other half of the town. She spotted Elijah, but he quickly disappeared behind a building. An obvious priest was picking up papers and doing her best to clean webbing off of them. More worgen were moving back and forth with their arms full of legs, the others were continuing to toss dead spider bodies over the wall. She sighed softly, which gained the male's attention.

"None of this is easy," he said. "For anyone."

"I know that," she replied, slightly irritated.

"We'll need to keep moving," he sighed. "But where to? We're beginning to run out of options."

"Working yourself into a panic isn't going to help," she snapped out.

He sighed and thankfully, was quiet again.

A sharp whistle caught her attention and she just couldn't keep her ears from perking up. "Mayor wants the brood-mother killed," Aubrey grinned. "She wants a lot of us on guard, but she wants the majority of us to start moving in the direction they're coming. We'll start pushing them back, so to speak." She chuckled, "Pass the word, would ya?"

Djinjer didn't say anything as she jogged out to the nearest bunch of worgen. She quickly told them the plan and they, too, told others, spreading the word of their new order from the mayor. She gave a nod at Elijah, whom smiled and waved. She nodded at Beatrice, whom called out to her with a howl. And then she found Zathaniel.

Zathaniel was on the other side of the protective boundary. Brutus sat beside him, wagging his tail excitedly. "They're coming from the north east," he said, as if knowing she was right there. Djinjer didn't move, afraid to alarm him of her presence. "You're quiet," he murmured softly. He then turned around and looked at her directly in her eyes. "Something wrong?"

"How'd you-" but he tapped his snout. "Hunters have a keen sense of smell. Worgen have a better sense of smell. Mix them together and I can tell who each person is without even looking at them." He took a deep breath and then sighed. "Let's get a head start, Djinjer."

Djinjer looked back at the worgen, whom were huddling together and pointing to themselves and around them. They were obviously setting up a plan. "How did we leave?"

"Carriage," he answered, walking deeper into the forest. Djinjer followed him closely. "We managed to get a potion into you. It seemed to work just fine but you weren't waking. Krennan suspected it was because you were exhausted. After dealing with some ogres and tricking Forsaken into being killed by our friend, the very angry Ettin, Liam and I headed down to the swamp, saved some more villagers and finally came back here. Liam's with his family, all of them are resting and dealing with…a personal matter." He sighed and shook his head.

Djinjer didn't say much else. Instead, before they were joined by the others, she asked, "So you're sort of royal?"

"Not at all royal," he replied.

"Well-"

"Now's not the time to talk about it," he murmured, readying his gun. "We have company."

It was hard to feel as though the spiders were a threat since it never took Zathaniel more than two shots to kill them, but he assured her they would get much worse. "They're the infants," he told her. "Their bodies are soft, so the bullets go through them easily." She still didn't feel threatened. At least, until they came across a beautiful blue spider, much like the ones she saw in town. Two shots, and the damn spider was still moving.

After he killed it, Zathaniel turned to her with a sly grin on his face, "You can help me with those."

Djinjer nodded and with the next spider, she charged into action. As soon as Zathaniel shot the disgusting creature, Djinjer rushed forward, swinging her sword. Swiping off the spider's head did some good, but Djinjer dropped her sword, howling in pain. She fell to her knees as she gripped her shoulder and groaned.

"Priest!" Zathaniel shouted out as he knelt beside her. "Seems Lorna is holding a grudge. I told her to have you healed, not bandaged." Djinjer let out another groan as Zathaniel yanked the bandages from her wound. "Do you remember being shot?"

"I remember it all," she whispered.

"Hold her still," said a pretty worgen voice. A warmth filled the wound, but it did not entirely erase the pain. "You shouldn't be out here," the priest murmured. "We have enough people to handle this properly."

"She's right," Zathaniel murmured standing up.

"Go back and get some rest or stand guard, but do not come with us," said another male worgen.

Djinjer didn't say anything as she pushed through the large crowd of worgen and walked back towards the town. What caught her attention, however, was a human female walking along the cobblestone path towards the town. She smiled at her. "What are you doing out here?" Djinjer asked.

"Merely went for a walk," said the human.

"It's dangerous out there…I think."

"That, it is." She bowed her head and continued walking into town with Djinjer right behind her. Djinjer stopped just inside of the town, watching the human. She walked around, not as if knowing where she was going but as if she was merely looking around. Djinjer shook free of her curiosity and walked back into the house where she had been kept.

"Djinjer?"

"Yes?"

"No, I wasn't sure if that was.." she cleared her throat. "Was the brood mother taken care of?"

"Not yet," she murmured. "I was sent back because _that_ one," she pointed at Lorna, "hadn't gotten me healed." The mayor gave a confused look at Lorna, whom sighed irritably and walked forward.

"I found something a bit more important than a shot worgen."

"Like what?" the mayor asked, accepting a book that Lorna was holding out to her.

"It's a journal belonging to a man named Bradshaw. It was missing many of its final pages, but a few worgen helped me locate them." Lorna chewed on her lip nervously, but when the mayor said nothing, she continued to speak. "It took a while, but I put together what happened here. At least, partially. There were survivors of the Curse in this town. They joined the others in the mountains, in Tempest's Reach."

The mayor began flipping through the pages, skimming over them. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"Because I wasn't entirely sure if it was useful." She leaned over and turned to a taped page. "Here," she pointed. "Everyone left, except the man that kept the journal, old man Bradshaw. He noticed that the worgen attacks had stopped all of a sudden and decided to venture into Blackwald."

Blackwald was the forest just north of Stormglen. It's where the brood mother was located. Were the spiders eating the feral worgen? Her stomach churned as she thought of the others possibly in danger.

"He speaks of an abandoned mill just northeast of town," the mayor murmured. "Djinjer…do you think you would be okay to check it out?"

"Yes," Djinjer replied. "I hate feeling useless."

"Then see if you can find any clues there," Lorna replied, seemingly kind again.

"Very well," Djinjer nodded and walked back out of the house again. She picked up a jog as she followed the road out of town and took the very same one the woman had been walking. Even from the road, she could hear the sounds of the worgen killing the spiders. A few more yards away and Djinjer heard nothing but silence.

No longer one to take chances, Djinjer grabbed her sword, ignoring the soreness in her shoulder. From the looks of the dilapidated mill, Djinjer expected Forsaken to be hiding inside of it. With a deep breath to calm herself, Djinjer moved forward. As she neared the rubble, she found very little that could be considered clues. But as she approached the actual mill, Djinjer froze. Her sword hit the ground with a loud clang.

Standing across from her in the abandoned mill was the most beautiful, most elegant creature she had ever seen in her entire life. Wearing an extremely elegant gown that appeared as if it was made of pure, woven gold was a tall being. She was definitely not human, with her pale purple skin, short purple hair and long, pointed ears. Her face was adorned by two magenta marks that reached from her hairline down to her jaw line.

Djinjer couldn't tear her eyes away from the silvery glowing eyes of the being, whom smiled at her. "Ishnu-alah. I have been expecting you, Djinjer." The being's voice was calm and just as beautiful as she was. "My name is Belrysa. I am a priestess of the moon. …A Night Elf. You may not know my people, but the destinies of our two people have been linked since the Curse befell you."

"But… What… How… My name… What?"

The Night Elf, Moon Priestess, Belrysa walked forward and continued to say, "You must have many questions, Djinjer." Wasn't that obvious? Djinjer rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was really seeing all of this. "And they will be answered in time. I know why you are here and what you are looking for." She placed a hand on Djinjer's shoulder. "I can't, however, lead you there with the enemy tracking you."

"I'm not being tracked," Djinjer murmured, feeling stupid.

Belrysa removed her hand from Djinjer's shoulder, holding it up to show the blood that was still wet upon her fur. "Forsaken can track anything by the scent or taste of blood. One of Sylvanas's scouts has been following your tracks. You can't lead the Forsaken to the place you seek. Take this talisman and walk along the road just north of here."

A small sparkle of light filled her hand, which she closed and opened, only to reveal a small talisman. She held it out for Djinjer to take, which Djinjer quickly accepted and stared at. "Let the ranger lure you to her trap and use the power of the talisman to break free and counterattack. I will give you the information you seek once you deal with the scout. Elune be with you."

The elf took several steps backwards and then vanished. Djinjer inhaled deeply. She was sure the elf was still there, but used some sort of magic to hide herself. She gazed down at the talisman and gripped it tightly in her hand. Djinjer gathered up her sword and took the path, just as the elf told her to do.

As she walked, Djinjer couldn't help but wonder how the Night elves managed to get here so quickly, so quietly. Wouldn't they have been noticed by someone? But perhaps the Gilneans were too preoccupied with the Curse and the Forsaken to notice the elves. Was she the only one? Or were there more?

Djinjer froze as her foot hit a piece of cobblestone that shifted. This was the trap, wasn't it? Djinjer let out half of a yelp as ice incased her entire body, freezing her where she stood. "Such easy prey," said another elf, one that looked much like the Dark Ranger she and the others had killed. "Sylvanas will be pleased!" The elf was slowly walking towards her.

Djinjer's heart began pounding. Why hadn't she asked how to use this so called talisman! Frozen and unable to move, Djinjer strained against her ice prison, but it was to no avail, she just couldn't move. And just when she was thinking the so-called Night Elf was a traitor, the talisman suddenly became very warm within her hand. It hummed to life, spreading an incredible power through her body. She felt rejuvenated and stronger than ever!

"What," the Scout's brows furrowed as she glared at the ice trap around Djinjer. It cracked and splintered until it shattered around her, freeing her from its grasp. "How did you-? It doesn't matter! I don't need a trap to defeat you!"

No longer sore or even tired, Djinjer had no problem meeting the blades of the Dark Scout with her own. These deadly beauties were all very quick, but apparently also fought quite the same. As soon as Djinjer overpowered the scout, she bounced back, attacking just as quickly as before. Djinjer blocked each attack with one hand on her two-handed sword. Something slipped into her mind that very moment and she realized this scout may only have two daggers, but _she was a weapon_. The scout didn't seem to know what hit her as Djinjer swiped at her, sinking her claws deep into the scout's face.

She blinked twice and stumbled backwards before seeming to get _very_ angry with Djinjer. The scout let out a furious yell and rushed forward, attacking even faster, which forced Djinjer to use both of her hands on her sword again, but that didn't stop Djinjer from being a deadly force. As soon as the scout got close enough, Djinjer took the chance of being harmed by throwing herself at the scout. Her teeth sliced through the scout's ear with no problem at all.

With a cry of pain, the scout spun around, readying her sword again. Djinjer spat the ear on the ground and roared at the scout. The scout twirled her daggers just once, repositioning her hands on them while Djinjer did something that could have been considered foolish. Djinjer placed her sword in its sheath and crouched down. "I'll make your death agonizing!" the scout hissed out, launching herself at Djinjer.

Djinjer growled as she raced forward, dodging the scout's attacks only to grab the scout's wrists. She gasped as Djinjer sunk her claws into her wrists, forcing her to drop her daggers. "What a shame to kill such a pretty little thing," Djinjer murmured, then sunk her teeth deep into the scout's neck. Two more gnashing bites and the scout's head toppled over onto the broken path. Djinjer backed away from the dead body of the scout and as if feeling someone's gaze upon her, Djinjer looked up at the silhouette of the mill.

Standing there, looking directly at her, was the Night Elf. Belrysa nodded and turned around, walking away from the edge of the small cliff. Djinjer wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and quickly made her way around to the mill. There, Belrysa stood, waiting for her return.

"Have you not wondered why there have been not sightings of feral worgen within the wilds of Gilneas? Or perhaps why the Forsaken are not hunting the ferals, but are hunting your kind?" She paused, as if waiting for a reply, but Djinjer couldn't find her voice. "There are _no_ more ferals within the walls of Gilneas. Instead, there are others. They are the same, yet not the same as your kind. There is a place where you belong. A place that can teach you many things, such as to be in control of yourself without the means of alchemy."

"But where is this place?" Djinjer asked softly.

"Tal'doren, the wild home, was once home to an order of druids who took the shape of wolves. It is there that you will find the answers you seek. It is also there that you will find someone who can offer guidance. An old friend." She moved aside and held her hand out. "Do you see that tree, there?"

Djinjer saw many trees…but she wasn't about to say she had _no_ clue what the elf was talking about. She looked at the elf, only to find her smiling at Djinjer. "Look a bit closer." Djinjer took another step forward, ignoring the body of the scout beneath her. She leaned down and strained to see into the distance.

"I see it!" she barked out happily.

"Go, Djinjer. There you will find all of the answers you seek."

Djinjer turned to thank the elf, but again she was gone. She grinned, the elf was _still_ there. Djinjer didn't even bother following the trail. She hopped down to the path, stumbled a bit, but kept running. As she neared the tree, Tal'doren as the elf called it, Djinjer could clearly see two worgen standing beside a large gap in the base of tree. She wondered, how could anyone _not_ notice this place?

Though eerie and somewhat frightening, there was something beautiful about Tal'doren and its darkened field. As soon as she approached the doorway, the two worgen looked at her and for a moment, she expected them to attack. They looked far more wild than any of the other male worgen did. "Welcome, sister," one huffed out as they both bowed.

"Can I…go inside?" she asked softly.

"Of course. Our brothers and sisters await you," said the other.

Djinjer looked over her shoulder, but there was no sign of anyone anywhere. What if she were being followed? What if some of the others came looking for her? Certainly the mayor or Lorna would think she was taking too long. Djinjer cleared her throat and nervously walked into the entrance of the tree. The inside of the tree was quite dark. Its only source of light came from three small fountains, which brought her attention to the three Night Elves standing behind them. Djinjer looked around her, amazed to see a large number of worgen standing around. Many of them wore raggedy clothes and only a few of them sported armor. "Welcome, sister," many of them murmured.

"Welcome to Tal'doren," said a deep, but soft voice. Djinjer was completely awestruck by the elf. He had long blue hair that was braided and hung over his chest. His soft blue skin was mostly covered by his grand armor, which was both green and brown. The elf that stood across from him was also male, but his skin was almost pink in color. His green hair was pulled back into a ponytail and finally, Djinjer turned her eyes upon another lovely creature. Her coloring was much like the second male's. Pinkish skin, green hair, but the markings over her face were teal in color.

"Who are all of you?" she murmured, but it was primarily directed towards the three elves.

"Who are you, would be a better question," came a familiar voice, though it was altered by the growling of a worgen.

Djinjer turned around to find who was possibly the most recognizable worgen. The worgen was gray in color, but the gray had a blue tint to it. He looked aged, but not entirely old and half of his right ear was missing…as was his right eye, which he wore a patch over.

"Djinjer," she answered, feeling strangely alarmed.

It couldn't have been _him_. Zathaniel said he had been killed…or had he?

The worgen walked forward, smelling around her neck. He was the largest male worgen she had seen yet! "You _are_ Djinjer!" he chuckled and slapped her on the shoulder. "I've been waiting for this day for a long time. It is truly great to see you, friend!"

Djinjer yelped a bit as he pulled her into his arms, hugged her tight, and released her. She stumbled a bit but regained her footing before making a fool of herself. "Crowley?" she asked.

"Who else would it be?" he chuckled again. "Word has been sent about what you've done for Duskhaven and I'm thankful…especially for Lorna…she's all I have left."

"She thinks you're dead! Everyone does! I thought I…" her throat suddenly tightened.

"I don't know how I survived that night, but what matters is that I did and here I am now." She couldn't help but smile at him.

"How long have you all been here?"

"A while," he answered.

"We could have used your help against the Forsaken, though," and now she felt angry. How could they hide inside of a hollow tree while their people were being slaughtered? While his own daughter was in danger of losing her life?

"Surely you don't think we've been in here doing nothing!" Many of the worgen chuckled softly. "The Night Elves have taught us much since they've first arrived. They've taught us who are and where we come from. Thanks to them…thanks to this place…we're no longer mere beasts. We have regained our free will. And…as soon as the Forsaken began their attacks, we were the first to respond," he chuckled.

"I didn't see any of you."

"That's because none of you saw where the first attacks began! Those undead _creatures_ managed to blow a hole right through the Greymane Wall. We fended them off for a while, but the damage was irreversible after the quakes started, especially that last one. The entire wall is broken, shattered into many pieces. You see, the Forsaken weren't just attacking Duskhaven, Djinjer, they were attacking from the north as well."

"Are they still moving in from the north?"

Crowley nodded, "I'm afraid the Forsaken aren't here for our land alone. They're looking for something we possess. An artifact capable of uncontrollably spreading the Curse to all humanity. We cannot let them find it." He motioned for Djinjer to follow him as he made his way to the other side of the tree. "Look at them."

It wasn't hard to spot what Crowley wanted her to see. Beautiful ghost-like creatures slowly roamed the land. "Sylvanas's banshees come very close. I hate to already ask you for favors, Djinjer, but my trackers need help taking them out. Most of the worgen here that have training stay behind to protect Tal'doren. It appears that most of _my_ worgen comrades were once normal citizens of Gilneas. Most don't know anything except for scratching and biting."

"I'll take them out, Crowley." He nodded at her, and from the corner of her right eye, Djinjer saw the female elf walking towards her. Djinjer turned to her. She expected the same smile and a greeting she had received from the last elf.

But this elf's face was emotionless, as was her soft voice. "We must make preparations for the ceremony."

"Of course," Crowley said with a bow. "What is it that you need?"

She bowed her head only slightly as Crowley stood up and turned her brilliant eyes on Djinjer. "What you know as the Curse began as a heresy among our brethren. Faced with a losing battle against demonic forces, the Druids of the Pack eschewed the balance they were sworn to and allowed the beast to overtake them. They were banished to the Emerald Dream where they live in eternal slumber under a tree identical to this one, but not before their curse spread to others. The ceremony we are preparing for will restore balance to your people. Bring me the leaf that grows only in Tal'doren's vicinity."

"But," Djinjer could feel herself blushing, "we're in a forest. How will I know this leaf from others?"

The elf's expression shifted only for a second into a humorous one. "The leaves are from the Moonleaf plant." She smirked and turned, walking beside Darius as the two of them made their way back to the glowing fountains. Some of the other worgen stared at her with hopeful eyes. This, she knew, was her chance to help save and unite her people…and her kind.

Djinjer turned around, stepping out from the safety of Tal'doren. She didn't quite know what to expect from the banshees, but what Djinjer quickly realized was that their vision was _very_ poor. Even as some turned towards her, facing her directly, they didn't see her. Granted, they were quite a distance away, but it still meant something if she could see them long before they could see her.

Djinjer began moving through Blackwald swiftly and as quietly as possible. She neared the closest banshee, taking cover behind one of the many trees within the Blackwald. As soon the banshee had her back to Djinjer, she sprung out from behind the tree and charged the banshee. She was surprised to find that most of the banshee wasn't just translucent, but also not really there. The only solid part of the being was her torso and arms and even then, Djinjer wasn't entirely sure if the banshee was really _solid_.

The banshee seemed surprised at Djinjer's sudden attack. Dark spells flowed from her hands, engulfing Djinjer. It was the first magical attack Djinjer had ever suffered. The new sensation of a fiery chill yanked the air from her lungs and instantly made her dizzy, but with a shake of her head Djinjer swung her sword at the banshee again.

It was odd to fight this banshee. Often, Djinjer wasn't sure if she had even made contact with the being, which would explain why Djinjer suddenly lost her balance and fell to the ground after the banshee let out a soft cry of pain and disappeared. Djinjer huffed against the cold ground and rose to her hand and knees. She shook her head and opened her eyes…

Djinjer blinked several times before crawling over to the silvery-blue plant at the base of the tree. It glowed only slightly, which-after looking up around her-Djinjer found at many bases of trees. Djinjer grinned as she grabbed the plant up and shoved it into the empty bag at her hip. Maybe, Djinjer thought, this wouldn't be so hard after all.


	12. Chapter 12

**Djinjer: A Worgen's Tale pt.12**

**Author's Note:** _I always thought it was a little anticlimactic whenever after drinking from the fountains, nothing happens. So I twisted that part just a little bit. Hope you guys don't mind! I also took Zathaniel's point of view because it really, really just needed an outside eye and being Zathaniel is completely my character, I don't think I could get his personality wrong. Huzzah!_

Djinjer leaned against the wall of the tree, staring at her brethren. Knowing that she could gain control over herself without the means of alchemy seemed too good to be true. But how could she doubt the Night Elves whenever her own kind were around her, alchemy free, but no different from how they were as humans? Sure, there were _differences_ but…they were _people_ again.

After her encounter with the banshees and her hunt for herbs, Djinjer had returned to Tal'doren. Not a moment after her return, Tobias and his trackers returned to Tal'doren as well, but with horrible news for them. _"Darius! The Dark Rangers have the Scythe! They got to before we were able to reach it!"_

"_Get our men in position immediately, Tobias! We cannot allow the Scythe to fall into the hands of the Forsaken!"_ As Crowley looked at her, Djinjer could tell from his expression that he hated asking her for help again, but Djinjer spoke before he could.

"_Where do you want me?"___Darius quickly explained their plan, which was formed as soon as they were taught about the Scythe, just in case something like that happened.

Luckily for her, the plan wasn't that complicated. Hide in the bushes, using the darkness of the Blackwald to their advantage. Once there was some sign or mention of the Scythe and they would attack, allowing her (original plan had Tobias in place of her) swooping in and stealing the Scythe from the Dark Rangers. Djinjer, however, didn't want to get them upset by a theory she had of her own.

Djinjer was certain that if the Scythe was as important as everyone made it seem, it wouldn't be lying in some trunk under the bed of a paranoid Dark Ranger. In fact, they may even be suspecting an attack from her kind. So why would they be careless about the Scythe? Djinjer began doubting the plan as soon as they were in position. Then, after waiting until her legs began to cramp, a mention of the Scythe's whereabouts was uttered into the darkness of the night.

Her comrades rushed forward, engaging the Dark Rangers as she rushed forward into the small cabin they surrounded. To her surprise, Djinjer found a single Dark Ranger inside of the cabin. And wouldn't you know? The Dark Ranger was looking at what was clearly the Scythe. Surprised, she slammed to top of the trunk down and rushed forward, but without her weapons (which were lying on the bed), the Ranger was easy to dispose of.

Djinjer grabbed the trunk, secured it under her arm, and then ran back out of the cabin. Her comrades disappeared into the darkness and to her surprise, none of the Dark Rangers followed. Those that survived scrambled into the house while some even looked worried. But Djinjer didn't have much time to worry about them. She and her comrades fell into silence as they carefully hid within the wilds of Blackwald. Tobias thought it would be a very bad idea for them to rush back to Tal'doren, just in case this was their plan.

After an hour of waiting, Tobias finally agreed to let them go back to Tal'doren. She had given Tobias the trunk, whom carried it to Darius. She, on the other hand, collapsed against the wall of the tree, which was where she still sat.

Djinjer looked up at the elves whom were preparing the ceremony in no hurry. She wished they would pick up the pace, however, considering she had already been a worgen for far longer than she remembered and would like to gain control of herself before something else happened. Then again, who said it would definitely work? As if to prove that it did work, Crowley approached her. "It's almost time," he murmured.

"What about the others?" Djinjer asked him, standing up. "Shouldn't they be allowed to take place in this?"

He didn't say answer. Instead, as they walked together, he said, "This…alchemy that has kept the beast inside of you at bay will not hold much longer. Our Night Elf friends have told us that the first cursed worgen were Night Elf druids. They, however, abandoned the balance that the rest of their kind embraced and allowed the beast to take over their minds."

They stopped in front of the nearest fountain. Darius placed his hand on the rim and looked into it. "It is only fitting that their brethren be the ones that deliver us from the Curse." He looked at her again and took a step back from the fountain. "Now drink, Djinjer. Drink from the waters of Tal'doren and make peace with yourself."

Djinjer approached the fountain, staring down into its glowing water. With trembling hands, she leaned over and began lapping it up. She flinched as the druid placed his hand on her head. "Just as Goldrinn's spirit once blessed our druids, let Djinjer be blessed with the wisdom of her race and the ferocity of the wolf god." As soon as he finished with his prayer, Djinjer felt something inside of her begin to tingle.

She moved over to the next fountain and lapped up its water as well. The female druid placed her smaller hand on Djinjer's head, reciting her prayer, "Just as Daral'nir soothes the cursed druids who gave into the beast and abandoned balance, let Tal'dorin soothe Djinjer."

Again, she moved to the next fountain, but this time she didn't tingle. Her stomach felt as if it were on fire, but it didn't make her feel sick. Instead, it felt like a soothing massage, moving throughout her entire body.

Djinjer drank from this fountain eagerly. Now that she was on the final fountain and she could feel something happening inside of her, she was excited. "Let the Scythe unbind that which was not meant to be bound! Let the soul master the beast, lest the beast master the soul!"

[Zathaniel's Point of View]

Zathaniel's heart pounded in his ears as he ran through Stormglen, making his way to the Blackwald with Brutus by his side. A female warrior followed him closely to act as his messenger should they find Djinjer. It seemed no matter what he did, each time he left that girl alone, something would happen to her! He hadn't realized she was gone!

After they dealt with the brood mother of Blackwald, Zathaniel nearly passed out from exhaustion as soon as they reached the safety of the town. He slept for a few hours and woke with a start. Why he felt responsible for Djinjer, he wasn't quite sure, but what he knew was that he couldn't live with himself if something bad happened to her.

Scouting ruins shouldn't have taken so long. After a shouting match with Lorna, Zathaniel got the information he needed out of the Mayor of Duskhaven. Having heard the conversation, the warrior asked to join him as his messenger. If she assumed he needed a messenger, then that meant one thing: he wasn't the only one that thought Djinjer could be…. No. He mustn't think like that!

Zathaniel and the warrior passed the mill and sped around its rise, only to come to a stop as they found a withering body.

"It's a Dark Ranger," the warrior murmured. "Good sign, ain't it?"

"Maybe," Zathaniel murmured, crouching down to survey the marks on the Dark Ranger. Sure enough, there were claw marks and it was quite obvious that the ranger's head had been bitten off rather than cut off. Zathaniel looked over his shoulder. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"…Report?" the warrior murmured.

"No," he groaned, already irritated with this initiate. "This is nothing to report! We find her first, then you can report!" She nodded, but it was obvious his harsh tone affected her. He sighed and murmured out, "What's your name?"

"Aubrey," she murmured.

"Thanks for coming," he replied. "Let's keep going." She immediately perked up at his thanks and this time, followed him closely. Now, it seemed as if she had something to prove to him. Zathaniel stuck his nose in the air, inhaling deeply. But it was of no real use. There were traces of her scent all over the Blackwald!

Zathaniel came to skidding halt as he got an eyeful of the two worgen in front of him. They stood guard at the base of a tree, on either side of the makeshift door. Both of them looked at Zathaniel, as if waiting for his next move.

"What if they're feral?" Aubrey whispered quickly.

Zathaniel eyed the two of them. They seemed far too calm to be feral. "Have you seen a female worgen?" he called out, feeling quite stupid. They had probably seen many feral females.

"Aye," said the worgen to the left. "She is inside."

"Do I go now?" Aubrey whined, obviously feeling frightened.

"No," he hissed, latching into her wrist. Zathaniel continued forward with the warrior behind him. As soon as they walked into the base of the tree, he knew something was about to happen. All of the worgen looked forward, watching something take place. "Brutus!" Zathaniel snapped as his faithful dog sped through the crowd, barking loudly.

"So much for blending in," Aubrey murmured.

A large worgen turned towards the crowd, "Welcome, visitors." It was hard not to miss what Brutus was barking about. As he and the warrior cleared the crowd, they found Djinjer hunched over a fountain.

"Is it supposed to work like this?" she murmured softly.

"Djinjer?" Zathaniel slowly began walking over to her. Brutus whined and turned to look at him, barked once, and turned back to Djinjer.

"Djinjer!" shouted Aubrey as Djinjer suddenly collapsed.

Zathaniel pulled out a pistol, pointing it directly at the large worgen. "What did you do to her?" he snarled out.

"Put that gun away, boy!" He knew that voice…didn't he? That missing eye…

"Darius?"

Crowley side irritably. "I suppose I'll have three worgen next, over reacting, and asking if it's me. _Yes_. It is _I_, Darius Crowley!"

"Zathaniel…" Aubrey whispered.

Zathaniel slowly replaced his pistol within its holster and looked over to Aubrey. "_Look_." Aubrey moved slightly, revealing an unconscious Djinjer lying upon the ground. Only…it was the Djinjer _he_ knew and thought of.

"How is that possible?" Zathaniel murmured, hurrying to her side. Zathaniel was very careful as he pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair out of her sweaty face. Djinjer was very much a human. Besides her scent, there was no real sign of her being a worgen. She groaned softly in his arms. "Go, Aubrey. Now is the time to go."

As soon as Aubrey sped off, Darius let out a chuckle, standing beside him. "She's a cute carrot, don't you think?" That was beside the point.

"I don't know how this could happen or what those things are," Zathaniel said to Darius as he glanced at the three strangers, "But we should all go back to Stormglen. Together, we can protect what remains of Gilneas from the Forsaken!"

Darius shook his head. "No, boy. It'll be a long time before our nation comes together again. But…if there was ever a time for us to come together and unite against a common enemy, it is now. Each tragedy our people fall victim to bridges the gap between the political divisions. When the feral worgen attacked Gilneas…we came together to fight them off, but at the cost of many lives and _my_ peoples' lives. You were there…and so was she. Had we not become worgen, we would have been left there to die."

"But you knew of the risks!" Zathaniel shouted back. "You knew it was what we basically signed up for!"

"That may be so, boy, but do you not agree that the families-the bodies that _still_ remain within Gilneas deserve a proper burial? Don't you think your wife, her parents, _your_ parents deserve peace? If my memory serves me correct…you bare the family crest of Gilneau, a long and very loyal friend to the Greymane family. Do _they_ deserve to rot in their family home?"

Zathaniel held Djinjer more firmly in his arms, afraid that if they were free, he would attack Crowley. Yet, some part of him agreed. Some part of him always longed to go back, to recover the dead and bury them to rest in peace.

"She is one of us," Darius murmured. "So are you. The warrior, however, is one of _them_. Return to Stormglen and tell them it is safe to go through the Blackwald on their way to Tempest's Reach. She and you should remain behind. We will take care of any Forsaken who follow them."

"Us, them…it doesn't matter," Zathaniel turned his eyes back to Djinjer's human face. "If _we_ don't band together, _we_ will fall…as a nation."

"He is right, Darius," said the female being behind her fountain. Her voice was smooth and calm…and quite pleasing to hear. "You cannot afford to hold grudges against your brethren."

Zathaniel's attention snapped back to Djinjer as she groaned and moved in his arms. "Bout time you got here," she muttered. Djinjer suddenly yanked herself out of his arms, "My voice! My hands! Look at me!" she grabbed her face, running her fingers along her cheek. "I'm _human_!"

"No," said one of the males. "You will never be human again. There is no cure for the Curse. You must live with it, you must be able to master changing forms, allowing your body to get used of the painful transformations."

"But-"

"Transform, Djinjer," Darius commanded. She and Zathaniel stood up. She looked so much shorter now. Granted she was always short compared to him…but this was almost laughable.

"I don't know how," she whispered.

Darius hunched over in order to look at her at eye-level. "Transform, _Warrior_." Djinjer closed her eyes and her entire body trembled, but nothing significant happened. "Transform," Crowley barked out.

"Transform!" someone shouted out.

"Transform!" others began to shout. It didn't take long for everyone to begin chanting, pushing her to transform. He didn't see what was so bad about becoming human again.

Djinjer began sweating again. She hunched over, heaved once, then stood straight again, holding her hands in front of her face. One by one, her hands changed, she hunched over again and this time, when she threw herself back, she let out a howl and before him stood the worgen form of Djinjer.

"What is this magic," Zathaniel whispered, but no one heard. The worgen of the tree howled and cheered and even Djinjer looked surprised with herself. With bright eyes, she turned to him and smiled. "Drink from the fountains, Zathaniel. Drink…and you will be…free."

But he was already calm and composed. He didn't need as many potions as everyone else. One a month and he was fairly level headed. Sure, he craved raw meat from time to time and sure, when he got into an argument, he wanted to attack them. But to be fair, he didn't argue much with anyone.

"You _have_ to," she whispered, placing her hand on his arm. Zathaniel sighed and knelt down.

"What do you think I should do?" Brutus sneezed, walked away from him, circled a fountain and sat down, letting out a yowling arf. "Traitor." Zathaniel gave Djinjer one look…then looked at Darius and nodded. Without saying a word, Darius held his hand out, directing him to the fountain. From each of the three fountains, Zathaniel drank, received a prayer, and thought it was silly…until the last prayer was over.

"I'm dizzy," he murmured, and before he knew it, he-like Djinjer had only moments ago-collapsed onto the ground. His vision blurred…and then there was only darkness.

"Is he okay?" he heard Djinjer's distorted voice…and then there was a light. Everything suddenly burst into color and there he was, sitting on the balcony of his childhood home. He looked around, and to his surprise and horror, he find Kimberly sitting in the chair beside him. She turned to him with a grin.

"Long time no see, _husband_."

"You're dead. This isn't real."

"It's as real as you make it out to be," she replied with a giggle.

"Then why are you here?"

She shrugged. "Why did you want to see me?"

"This is ridiculous."

"Perhaps," she said. "But…this whole dream state is to regain the human inside of you. And we both know, _you_ haven't felt human in quite some time."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, feeling irritated by this vision.

She bit her lip and grinned devilishly at him. "It's your fault."

He laughed, "For you dying?"

"For everything." Zathaniel froze. He hadn't expected her to say that. "When your father died, you came back disturbed. But now that I'm just a figment of your imagination, I _know_ what happened. What you did."

"Enlighten me," he murmured.

"Oh, but you know what you did, _darling_. It was your annual hunting trip with your father. You and he went hunting in the Headlands to the north. Everything was going well until _you_ spotted the drifter." The scenery suddenly vanished and there they were, standing behind himself and his father.

"_Look, father! There's something out there…on the water."_

"_It…looks like a person. Quickly, Zathaniel, save him!"_ He watched himself run to the shore, jump into the water, and swim out to the unconscious man, barely floating atop some debris. He brought the man back, whom groaned out a thank you before falling unconscious. _"He's not a native. He must be from Silverpine."_

"_Do you think he could be dangerous?"_ His father shrugged in reply. _"Look at this,"_ Zathaniel grabbed the man's wrist, bringing it up to show an intricate piece of jewelry. It suddenly fell from his wrist, crumbling at is hit the ground.

"_We should bring him back to the city. Perhaps we can figure out who he was. Gather up those shards, Zathaniel."_

"No!" Zathaniel shouted. "I don't want to see!"

"That's because you know you shouldn't have touched that man's bracelet!"

"Shackle…and it was already broken!"

The scenery changed again and this time, they were standing in his living room. He was sitting in front of the fire place and his mother was sobbing against him. "That man killed your father. Woke up right when you turned your back to him and turned into a beast. Your father protected you from him…and it killed him. You had the chance to stop the man who turned into a worgen. _You_ could have kept us from this nightmare! But you let him get away. You didn't even _try_ to avenge your father!"

"I was trying to save my father." Zathaniel whimpered, feeling the pain and guilt wash over him all over again.

"You were called damaged goods. Whatever killed your father must have damaged you. But if you didn't rise up to your name and marry, your family would lose everything-according to Gilnean Law. If it wasn't for your mother trying to sell _your_ family heirlooms for money, she would have never met my mother, whom spoke to my father about me marrying _you_. After all, they were looking for suitors."

That scenery disappeared and reappeared within the dining room at Kimberly's home. "I loathed you," she murmured. "I didn't want someone whom everyone called crazy." She laughed, throwing herself down on the chair beside him. "Look at you. You weren't at all interested in me. But my family knew of your family's situation…of your money. Even though I didn't like you, I would have been married to you anyway. But you kept coming back and actually taking an interest in me. I mistook it for love. I didn't realize you were just…determined to keep your belongings."

"That's not true," he murmured. "I did love you."

"If you did, you wouldn't have been so depressed and _broken_ each and every moment you weren't with me, putting on a play." The ghost of Kimberly glared at him. "And then the killings started. You could have stopped him again."

Again, the scenery changed. This time it was of Zathaniel walking along a deserted alleyway. Suddenly, a doorway opened and out if walked none other than the very human that he had saved. "I wondered how he could be human again. But then I realized…he had another shackle…and it was dawn."

The man looked at him and smiled, then turned around and _walked_ away. "You just let him _walk_ away. After that, people started going missing. You ignored what happened. Admit it."

The scenery changed again, this time, he knew it was the final one. Djinjer was crying, holding Kimberly in her arms. "She's the only one that ever really loved me…and _you_ took me from her. You broke her heart."

"I didn't know. You never said anything."

"That's because you didn't care. You loved someone else-not me. So why should my happiness matter?" The ghost sighed and then turned back to him, bloodied and disemboweled. Zathaniel looked away from her. "What does all of this tell you?"

Zathaniel said nothing as the guilt poured over him. He could have stopped everything twice. He could have kept his people safe. "_You love misery_," the ghost whispered. "_You want everyone to suffer…but you didn't realize just how bad it would get. Your mother kept your father's body on ice in your basement until she blew her brains out. After that…you told the prince it would be a good idea…to give basic training to civilians wanting to help with the worgen problem-something you also said was a good idea to keep from the people of Gilneas. It's because of _**you** _that so many people…are dead!_"

"It's my fault," he murmured. "And I have to live with that guilt. I don't need a ghost making me relive it!"

"Then why bother trying to regain control?" she shouted and suddenly they were outside again, this time, he was holding Djinjer as she wept for her parents. "Even without being a worgen, you are a _monster_! Why not take a page from your mother's book?"

Zathaniel watched the scene before him. Djinjer looked up at him and in that moment, he knew the answer. He looked at Liam, whom watched them with the same look Djinjer held in her eyes: Hope. "Killing myself would only prove that I _am_ a monster; that I am a coward. Living…helping…protecting…. It's all I can do to try to redeem myself, to help my people live."

"You think-"

"Yes!" he shouted. "I have to live to be a part in saving our people!"

"And what of the person you're in love with?" The ghost of Kimberly giggled wickedly.

"I'll protect her." The ghost frowned. "I'll fight for her until I die…because I'm not a beast. I am a man." The ghost screamed, the world swirled around him and then…there was nothing. Everything vanished.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking until his vision cleared. "Hey, Brute," he murmured.

"Wasn't it amazing?" Djinjer asked as she helped him up. "What did you see? I saw my family…I saw Kimberly."

"Me too," he muttered out, though from the sounds of it, what Djinjer saw was pleasant. He shook his head and gripped her shoulder, forcing himself to control his balance.

"You're so _short!_" she laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

Zathaniel just now noticed he was looking _up_ at her and his hand…wasn't furry or clawed. "This is so bizarre," he murmured.

"_Father_!" shouted Lorna. Zathaniel spun around, finding Lorna, Godfrey, the King, and _all_ of Stormglen's worgen at the entrance of the tree.

"Lorna!" Not even showing a shred of fear amongst possible feral worgen, Lorna sped cleared the distance between her and her father. She sobbed as she threw herself into his arms.

"Oh, father! I thought I lost you!" Zathaniel had always admired her strength, which didn't wane even during her mourning. Now, he imagined she would only become braver now that her father was alive.

"Crowley! You and your elven allies are hereby ordered to serve along the king's army! Cursed or not, you are still bound by Gilnean law!" Godfrey. How he loathed that man.

Lorna stepped aside, holding onto her father's arm. "Does this toad speak for you, Genn?" Crowley snarled out. "Do you come to our dwelling as friend? Or do you come as a tyrant?"

The king suddenly pushed forward, walking up Darius. "No, old friend. I've come to you," with grace fit for a King, he easily transformed into a dark gray worgen, "as an equal."

"Impossible!" Godfrey shouted. "When did this happen?" Godfrey was flushed as he pushed back through the crowd of worgen, attempting to get out of the safe haven.

Crowley was grinning. "Aye, Genn. It is not law that binds us. It is something far stronger." Crowley knelt down onto one knee, bowing his head. "My men are ready to give their lives under your command."

"It is decided then," he said, as Crowley stood up. "We will unite all Gilneans and drive the Forsaken from our lands."

"Zathaniel?" Lorna murmured, which-quite frankly-interrupted the moment. "How…" she walked up to him, cupping his cheek with her hand. "You're human again."

"No," Zathaniel murmured. "Merely in control of myself."

"We all are," Darius called out. "Our Night Elf brethren have come to save us from the beasts within. Drink from the fountains, my brothers and sisters! Drink and you'll become _whole_ again." The King was the first to drink, but one by one, the worgen drank from the fountains and each of them had a moment of unconsciousness, only to become human again. With the inspirational chants from their brethren, they all learned how to transform and all of them became united in that very moment. The Worgen weren't beasts. They were people.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** _As you may be able to tell, I'm -kind- of speeding along the chapters with brief descriptions. Anyway...We're getting closer to the end of the Worgen Quest Line. :3 Will I go further than that? Probably! I just don't know how far I'll go. I definitely know, however, that I'm not going all the way to lvl 85 lol. Screw that. Well, I hope you guys enjoy :D  


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After everyone had drank from the Elven fountains and had regained control of their mind and soul, many of them returned to Gilneas. Some transformed back into humans just for the fun of it. It was only as Djinjer made her way back to the Mayor's dwellings that she saw someone that caught her interest. The same "human" woman was walking beside a male worgen. Her eyes met Djinjer's and in that moment, Djinjer realized just who this person was. It was the same woman that had been walking out of the Blackwald into Stormglen. She grinned at Djinjer, which made Djinjer think…this woman had been a worgen all along. She had been Crowley's informant…and no one knew.

Djinjer smiled back at her and walked inside, only to find the mayor yawning as she slowly walked over towards a chair. "After this is all done and over with, I'm sleeping for a week."

Djinjer frowned. "Mayor-"

"Don't call me that," she murmured. "As painful as it is, Duskhaven is _gone_. It's not coming back. I'm no longer a mayor. I'm just Gwen now." Djinjer meant to keep talking to her, but Gwen continued, "When my week long nap is over, I want a barrel of pickles and the strongest lager there is."

"Pickles?"

Gwen smiled. "It's my comfort food. Now…what did you want to tell me?"

"King Greymane-" Djinjer snapped her mouth shut as the Mayor held up a hand.

Gwen sighed and stood up, "King Greymane gave me a brief rundown of the plan before he set off for the Blackwald. Doesn't make it sound any less crazy." She grinned, "He did confide in a few people that _weren't_ Lord Godfrey. I assume all went well?"

"Yes," Djinjer replied. "Crowley wants everyone, human and worgen, to make their way through the Blackwald to Tempest's Reach."

"I figured as much," she replied as she combed her fingers through her hair and readjusted her hat. "I'll do as Darius asked and have our people move through Blackwald. You know, you might want to catch up with King Greymane. He and Krennan went into Tempest's Reach after Lord Godfrey confirmed survivors made their dwelling there. They could use your help."

Djinjer blushed. She had never been further than Gilneas City. She hadn't even known anything about Stormglen except that her father managed to sell to their villagers as well. "And…where…might that be?"

Gwen smiled at her almost lovingly. "I forget that you're such a country girl…just like I used to be. Follow the road out of Stormglen into the mountains. Krennan should be waiting for aid at the bridge. Make sure you're armed, Djinjer. I don't know what dangers may lie ahead of you."

"Thanks," she grinned, turning her back on the mayor. She exited the house, ready to make her way past the area of Stormglen that had been overrun with spiders. Except…

Djinjer came to a stop, ignoring everyone else and focusing on one person. Zathaniel sat against a wall of a house, in his human form, as he ran a hand along his companion's spine. Brutus lay beside him, snoozing and obviously enjoying the attention. He looked depressed, tired…lonesome. A long time ago, she would have never imagined he could wear such an expression. Even now, she found it hard to accept that for once, he was the one needing comforting. Of course the strongest support couldn't remain the strongest. It was only time before he crumbled, like everyone else did. But that was the beauty of her people. So far, no one "crumbled" alone, not since this entire disaster started.

She approached him with a smile. "Krennan is waiting at the bridge near Tempest's Reach. You want to come?" Zathaniel shrugged a single shoulder in reply. Djinjer crouched down in front of him. "Are you okay?" She jumped, startled by Zathaniel's quickly slapping his arm.

"Worst part about going back to being a human is…the fleas are more bothersome." He pinched one between his fingers, gave it a snap, and flicked it away.

"What _do_ you do about the fleas?" She hadn't paid much attention to any itching, considering she was always focusing on something more important.

"Well," He looked down at Brutus, whom had just lifted on leg and pursued a nibbling attack around his privates. "I would imagine something like that…"

Djinjer couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, which made him look straight into her eyes. She had forgotten that his were green… "It's been a long time since I've heard anyone laugh, really laugh. It's pleasant."

"How about you join me to Tempest's Reach and I'll laugh for you all you want?"

He rolled his eyes but stood up, taking a moment to throw himself back into his worgen form. "Let's go," he murmured.

"You know the way?" she asked.

He gave her a look, one that could only be interpreted as, "Are you serious?" But of course Zathaniel would know the way. He was a hunter. It was his job to know maps like the back of his hand. "Do _you_?" came the smug retort.

"Just lead the way, Zathaniel, before I change my mind about you joining me." She grinned at him, but he needn't be told twice to get a move on. The two of them-three if you counted Brutus-jogged along the road out of Stormglen. It didn't take _too_ long for the bridge to come into view, but what she saw made her heart stop. "Is that…Krennan?"

"He's been injured!" Zathaniel took off at a quick run, leaving Djinjer struggling to keep up with him. She was sore and somewhat tired, not to mention-she specifically chose to be a warrior because she wasn't some slim, sleek runner. By the time she reached them, Zathaniel was already pulling out a roll of bandages from the satchel at his side.

"How can you be so intelligent but so stupid?" Zathaniel growled out.

"I'm an…Alchemist," Krennan breathed out, clinching his bleeding side. "No use…for bandages."

"And I suppose it slipped your mind not to have heath potions?"

"Didn't think I'd need them to be honest." He swallowed and turned his eyes to Djinjer. "King Greymane has been taken prisoner by Lord Godfrey in Tempest's Reach." He hissed as Zathaniel ripped open his robes at the wound and placed the bandage on it. "Godfrey managed to convince two of the eastern lords to go with his plan. The fool seems to think he can strike a deal with the Forsaken by turning Greymane over to them."

He took a deep, quivering breath, obviously feeling relief from the bandages healing powers. "Listen, both of you. We need to resolve this with as little bloodshed as possible. While waiting…for help…and panicking, I found _this_." He held up a vial with a silvery green liquid in it. "This potion will allow you to sneak in undetected. We need you to assassinate the traitorous lords before this gets out of hand! But," he shifted himself against the watch house, "there's only enough for one of you."

"I'll go," Zathaniel grabbed the potion and stood up.

"Why? It's not like you can take Brutus with you!"

"No offense," Zathaniel grinned at her, "but you aren't exactly quiet, Djinjer."

Djinjer was completely baffled. She was _so_ incredibly baffled that she didn't quite know how to reply to that. Sure, she was a little bit of a brute but she wasn't _that_ bad, was she? "You're a hunter!" she finally spat out. "You have guns! That doesn't go with 'undetected!'"

"I have swords, too," he placed his hands on the hilts of his swords and gave them a wiggle.

"If you go, then what should I do?"

"Stay here, protect Krennan and if I'm not back in thirty or forty, come looking for me-sword swinging." He grinned at her and yanked the cork from the potion. "I'll be back soon."

Djinjer glared after him as he crossed the bridge, drank from the potion, and disappeared. She sighed and looked down at Brutus, whom stared intently into the distance. _He_ could still see his master.

With a sigh, she sat down beside Krennan, lifting the bandage to check on his wound. It had already healed with a fresh, pink scar.

"So," Krennan murmured out, "is it really true?"

"Is what true?" she asked immediately, craving for anything to distract her from the dangerous situation Zathaniel was putting himself into.

"About the elves in the forest," Krennan murmured, licking his dry lips. Djinjer reached into her own satchel and removed a flask of water.

"Yes," she replied softly as he accepted the water and drank until it was empty. "Your potion worked well, though."

He chuckled, then hissed and grabbed his side. "I know it worked well. Do you think I'm upset that the elves cured your Curse?"

Djinjer shook her head. "I don't think 'cure' is the right word for it."

"Why not?" he asked. "A cure is just another word for a remedy. Perhaps you may not be human anymore, Djinjer, but you _are_ cured of the beast within. As far as I'm concerned, you're still as human as I am." She opened her mouth to reply, but Krennan placed his hand over her snout. "Druids can transform into many beasts of the wild, but are they still not humans? Or rather, are they still not a part of their race?"

Djinjer thought about it for a moment. The alchemist was correct in that aspect. They were human on the inside…and at will, could be human on the outside. What real difference was there between worgen and druids? Not much. Djinjer smiled at him, "You're right."

For a while they sat there. Krennan dozed off from time to time, but mostly stayed awake. Brutus, on the other hand, hadn't really moved from the edge of the bridge. More than once, he stood up on all fours and let out a soft whine, only to sit back down and stare. Djinjer sighed as she stood up, looking up the hill. There was absolutely no sign of Zathaniel anywhere.

Brutus whined again and suddenly, Djinjer decided she couldn't wait any longer. She had to know if he was okay; if everything was going as planned. Djinjer looked down at the mastiff beside her. "Are you coming?" she asked. The dog snorted and ran forward, which was answer enough. She followed him across the bridge and up the hill, only for him to race to his master's side, whom stood behind none other than King Greymane.

"It is _over_, Godfrey. You have no support among the Eastern Lords. Remove your weapons at once and surrender yourself. Despite the tragedy that has befallen Gilneas, you will become a prisoner and dealt with as soon as this situation is over. You will be kept in the abandoned feral cages, until-"

"No," Godfrey shouted. He looked around at all of them, then looked towards the cliff. "I'd sooner die than have one of your kind for a king!" Godfrey pushed past her as he ran towards what was surely his death.

"Godfrey! Stop!" Greymane shouted, but before so much as any of them could step forward, Godfrey threw himself over the cliff's edge. "Damn it," the King whispered. "I didn't want it to come to this. I wish it could have been avoided." Greymane sighed and grabbed his nephew's shoulder. "Listen," the King eyed her and shyly, she stepped forward, "We found out that the small mining town of Emberstone is now currently under Forsaken occupation. We sent some of my men, along with Crowley's daughter to the nearby livery stables to begin operations there. Liam should be joining them shortly."

"And what of you and our people?"

Genn shook his head, "Don't worry. I'll remain here and organize the final push for Gilneas City. Lord Hewell," he turned to the other man, whom was pale and looked quite frightened. "Can we secure a horse to get these two there?"

"S-sure," he stuttered out, but quickly turned and whistled. When two nearby men saluted him, he shouted, "Two horses!"

Not a moment later, two horses were brought out and Zathaniel picked up Brutus. "Remember what we trained, Brutus. Sit," he murmured, placing the mastiff on the horse's saddle. The dog quivered as he balanced, but eventually sat still. Zathaniel hopped up onto his horse, holding Brutus with one hand.

As Djinjer maneuvered onto her designated horse, the King also said to the other Lord, "Hewell, we also need some of your men to help Krennan. He's injured, just at the watch post before the bridge."

"On it," Hewell replied.

"Be safe," Zathaniel said to the King, whom nodded at his nephew.

"Follow me closely, Djinjer," Zathaniel said over his shoulder, nudging the horse with his knees. Djinjer did the same, gripping onto the reigns tightly. She had never directed her own horse before. Zathaniel didn't say anything as he road through eastern Gilneas with her right behind him.

She had never seen this country side before, which she admitted to regretting now. She knew her family would have loved seeing the herd of wild horses or the huge flocks of sheep. It was funny how even in such hard times, she could still find the beauty within Gilneas. She would have kept looking around, had she not sped past Zathaniel, whom had come to a stop. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" she shouted at the horse, which came to such a skidding halt that she was flung right over the horses head.

She expected Zathaniel to burst into laughter, maybe even make fun of her, but he was quiet. Djinjer got to her feet, dusting herself off. She looked at her partner, whom stared straight ahead. Slowly, Djinjer turned around and found the city of Gilneas straight across from them.

"If we didn't have orders from the king himself, I would go in there," Zathaniel murmured. "Look at it, Djinjer," he said as he nudged his horse to walk forward. "It looks…"

"Dead," she finished. There was absolutely no signs of life from within the city…and hearing absolutely no sounds coming from it made her skin crawl. "We should get going, Zathaniel. I don't want to see our city this way."

"You're right," he murmured, meeting her eyes with his own. "Are you okay?" She nodded and with some difficulty, managed to get back onto her horse. "Our destination should be just down that road," he nodded in the direction of the road, but gave one more look to the city. "I hope we can get in there soon, Djinjer. I hope…to put them at rest." She didn't need to ask whom he was speaking about.

Djinjer sighed and reached out to him, placing her hand on his arm. "I'll be there with you when you do."

"Djinjer…" he pulled his arm from her. "I'm going in there. I want you to follow the road north. _Stay on the road and do not venture from it_."

"No," Djinjer whimpered out. "I don't want to be alone."

He grabbed her ear and pulled it back, making her yelp. "You're going alone, Djinjer, and you're going to help Lorna. I _have_ to get in there. I'll be fine. Now go."

She glared at him and frowned, "Are you going to make me?"

Zathaniel's ears laid flat against his skull as he suddenly bared his teeth. Growling, Zathaniel barked out, "Go, Djinjer!"

For some reason, that expression bothered her. It actually…sort of hurt her feelings. Confused and not wanting to irritate him any further, Djinjer turned her horse and nudged it forward. As soon as it picked up a gallop, Djinjer turned and looked over her shoulder. Zathaniel was staring after her, but then turned towards the city, looking up at it. Her stomach clenched and her heart gave a shiver as the distance between them grew. If Zathaniel didn't make it out of there, she would never forgive herself.

It didn't take much to stick to the road and follow it north. Nor was it hard to find the Livery Outpost. Lorna let out a sharp whistle, waving a single arm in the air to catch her attention. "I didn't expect you," Lorna said as Djinjer dismounted her horse, "but I'm glad you're here. We're surrounded by Forsaken on all sides and can use all the help we can get."

Djinjer looked around. Aside from a small party of comrades, there weren't many people around at all. In fact, she recognized all but one: a gray haired man whom looked underfed and filthy. His clothes were nearly rags and his skin was covered in grime and soot. She turned her eyes back on Lorna, whom was looking at the man as well.

"We found him cowering in the Livery. After giving him food and water, he filled us in on the situation at Emberstone. It turns out that the villagers at Emberstone survived most of the ravages of the Curse." Lorna sighed softly. "Unfortunately, their village wasn't as fortunate when it came to the Forsaken invasion. The Forsaken have taken the villagers prisoner and as Marcus has told us, are forcing them to work the nearby mine. Our scouts have reported that the village is swarming with Forsaken."

Djinjer gave another look around her before asking, "So what's the plan?"

"I'm afraid we'll need more than just you, Djinjer." Lorna shrugged.

"What's wrong with sending your crew?" Djinjer asked in reply.

Lorna smiled politely, "They will remain with me to protect the slaves that we'll be freeing." The man named Marcus let out a loud, "ha!" and continued muttering to himself. "Did…Zathaniel not wish to join you?"

"He's in there," Djinjer pointed to the city, which earned a gasp from Lorna. "And unless you want me to take my sweet time going back to Tempest's Reach and wait for all of our citizens and worgen to get there, I suggest trying to believe that I can do something."

"Like get yourself killed!" Lorna snapped out, her voice beginning to rise. "How could you let him go in there? There are Forsaken taking up camp in the city _as we speak_! He's going to get himself killed!"

"Perhaps," Djinjer murmured, feeling a wave of guilt, "but I believe in him." How badly she wanted to end that sentence with, "unlike you," but remembering this was not the time nor place to argue, Djinjer bit her tongue-almost literally. "I'm going to Emberstone," she announced.

"Please," Marcus strained out, "you have to listen to me." Marcus-though his feet were covered in blisters and wounds-walked forward without showing the slightest ounce of pain. "When the Forsaken took over our town and our mine, they treated us with the utmost cruelty. Those of us who were weak and could not endure hard labor were worked to death by the slave driver. I over heard the Forsaken call him Brothogg, the abomination."

Marcus fished around his raggedy clothes and pulled out an old crumpled picture, "My wife," he said as he held out the picture which showed a healthier Marcus standing beside a smiling woman. "She was among his victims, warrior, and I swore that one day her death would be avenged. I am too frail now, but you can deliver justice…for my wife…for Gilneas!"

Djinjer nodded as she placed both of her hands over his. "You have my word," she replied. "I will do everything in my power to free _all_ of the slaves and put an end to this Brothogg creature. Does everyone in the mine know of this place?"

Marcus nodded, his eyes full of life and passion. "They will know where to run to."

"Good," Djinjer turned back to Lorna. "I'm going with or without your help."

Lorna looked down at her gun, then back at Djinjer. "Someone will need to be here to care for them, Djinjer. Liam should also be on his way with reinforcements. I'll wait here."

"Coward," Djinjer muttered as she stormed away. For the most part, Djinjer followed the road to the town, but as soon as she spotted the mine, she slipped into the coverage of the forest.

A single Forsaken guard patrolled the railway while another stood guard at the entrance of the mine. Djinjer was certain regardless of how she did it, she would gain both of their attention. She withdrew her sword, took a deep breath and then ran out to the patrol, charging him and attacking him with all of her strength.

Surprised by her sudden appearance, the Forsake soldier did little in return, but the guard at the entrance of the mine was a bit more prepared as _she_ charged her. The female Forsaken fought with a wildness Djinjer hadn't seen in their soldiers before. In fact, as Djinjer blocked her many wild swings and uncoordinated attacks, Djinjer couldn't help but wonder if this soldier knew what she was doing.

Djinjer made her final attack against the Forsaken, whom revealed something as she fell to the ground. Djinjer knelt down, pulling at the fabric underneath the Forsaken's armor. Her heart began pounding as she recognized the black and white gown. She quickly turned to the male in a panic and began stripping him of his Forsaken armor, revealing an underlying layer of clothes, which were engraved with the Gilneas crest.

Djinjer quickly slapped her hand over her muzzle to keep from crying out. "How?" she asked aloud. "What _monsters_ could do this to our people?"

Spotting a ring of keys on the female, Djinjer snatched them up and stood, glaring into the entrance of the mine. Were all of the soldiers _her_ people? "_Bastards_!" Djinjer shouted. She stormed into the mine and was immediately greeted by the sounds of iron picks hitting stone walls. As soon as she turned the corner of the mine, she found three human slaves, all whom immediately stopped their work to stare at her in fear.

"I've come to save you," Djinjer murmured softly, approaching the nearest slave. She knelt down and tried the first key on the key ring, but it didn't work. Nor did the second key work, or the third, or fourth. Finally, the fifth key unlocked his shackle and Djinjer moved to the next person.

"You have to get to the Livery," Djinjer told them quickly. "There will be people there, waiting for you with food and drinks. Marcus is there," she added, hoping to gain some sort of trust from them.

"No," said the young man. "We have to wait for everyone to be freed, friend."

"But," as Djinjer moved to the next person, that slave interrupted her, "If we stick together and wait for everyone to be saved, we'll have a greater chance at survival. They're always sending new soldiers to the mines. If they send one new soldier, like they normally do, we'll be able to handle ourselves. Now please, help everyone quickly and be careful."

"Aye," said the second slave. "The mine is crawling with Forsaken."

Djinjer nodded and as they gathered up in the hallway, clenching their pick axes as weapons, Djinjer moved deeper into the mine, freeing slaves and killing more Forsaken Gilneans as she went. Finally, Djinjer made her way into the last chamber of the mine. It was held up and supported with wooden beams and what looked like ship parts. In this section of the mine, Djinjer was surprised to see many Forsaken soldiers guarding what looked very much like crates of explosives.

She had a great idea.

Well, not so much great as it was very idiotic on her part and could possibly kill her…but it would save everyone else…and there was _no_ way she would return to the Livery, knowing she had left that disgusting abomination alive.

Brothogg stood at the back of the mine and to her surprise, a Forsaken soldier shouted, "Ya smell that? Ain't no bloody 'uman." The abomination said something in reply, but his speech was so slurred that Djinjer couldn't understand him. "Ain't hearin' those pick axes, either. Seems like we go' us an intruder. Come out, ya filthy slug!"

Djinjer took another deep breath, which had been increasingly difficult considering how far into the mine she was. She then pushed off of the wall and stepped out into the circle of Forsaken.

"It's a _worgen_!" shouted the soldier, whom seemed both outraged and completely terrified. "Kill it!" he shrieked. Djinjer did the only thing that she could think of. She didn't attack any Forsaken soldier, nor did she attach Brothogg. Instead, Djinjer charged the main support beam and slammed her body into it. To her surprise, it actually made the Forsaken stop in their tracks. The entire mine trembled. Rocks and dust fell from the cavern ceiling.

"You'll kill us all if you move that beam," said another Forsaken soldier, one that seemed even more frightened than the other.

Suddenly found herself in pain and being yanked towards Brothogg. He let out a roar as she was pulled against him, which was quite disgusting. Djinjer, in her closeness to the monstrosity, swung her sword upward, striking his incredibly fat, sewn head. The abomination howled as she blinded the one eye that he had. She dislodged the large hook from her abdomen, ignoring the pain, and dashed forward to the nearest box of explosives.

"Stop her!" the abomination shouted, swinging wildly. Djinjer picked up the bomb inside and held it above her head.

"One more step and I drop this!" she shouted at them.

"It don' really matter none," said the soldier whom had spoke first. "The Dark Lady is expandin' her army. The more your people die, the more we gain. All those bodies left in the city, all those bodies left floatin' where Duskhaven was," he cackled, "they're _all_ Forsaken now!"

With the panicked thought that her father, her mother, everyone she had lost could be Forsaken soldiers, Djinjer threw the explosive against the opposite wall, right above a box with more explosives. She ran forward, dodging the attacking Forsaken and was shoved hard against the tunnel wall by the force of the explosion. An immediate chain reaction started and all of the explosives began going off one at a time. Djinjer ran through the tunnels, doing her best to clear her head.

Her ears were ringing, her head was clouded by the smoke, dust, and darkness of the tunnel. If there was one thing that kept her running, that kept her focused, it was that the mine was collapsing right behind her. Djinjer ran even faster, slamming into walls or tripping from time to time. She had to hurry! She had to get out of the mine and _flee_ from the scene, because she _knew_ this would gain the attention from the Forsaken within the actual town.

Djinjer let out a yelp of happiness as she took the final bend of the tunnel and came soaring out of the mine just as it collapsed. Djinjer hit the ground with such force, it took the air right out of her lungs, leaving her gasping for breath as she did her best to crawl away from the mine. She shook her head, attempting to free it of the ringing, but it was of no use. Gasping for air and ignoring the pain in her side, Djinjer finally got to her feet and began running back to the livery. She wondered, however, if she would make it back. It was getting harder to focus and harder to keep running. Djinjer slammed against a tree, and though she tried to push off of it, she just couldn't. Slowly, she slid down it and groaned softly.

Her ears popped, which felt quite horrible, but it removed the ringing. She blinked down at her boots and very human legs. And then she held her hand up. Transforming, it seemed, made the wound worse. If no one found her, if she didn't push herself to make it back to the livery, she would bleed out. Chances were, she would _still_ bleed out, even if she made it back. "I did my part," she whispered, placing her hand back over the wound. She held her hand against it, attempting to stop the bleed, but she was weak and quickly losing consciousness. With a grin, Djinjer closed her eyes. If this was how she was going to die, it wasn't that bad. She managed to save an entire town _by herself_. Wasn't that enough?


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **_Totally forgot to put an author's note to clear a few things up. I wrote this chapter because I felt it was a bit...stupid to have gone through the ENTIRE Worgen beginning quests without any mention of the Horde kidnapping Lorna. Now...if you've only played Alliance, let me fill you in. There is a questline that begins in **Silverpine Forest** which is essentially breaking into Gilneas and owning shit up. However, one quest specifically has you kidnap Lorna Crowley and there's negotiations between her father and Ingvarsomething or other. Um...After that, Sylvanas says something about moving into Gilneas city, so that made me think it happened before the Gilneans left their zone. :3 Anyway, enjoy..._

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Djinjer gasped as a sharp pain yanked her out of her unconsciousness. Her eyes fluttered open only to reveal Lorna staring down at her with a worrisome expression on her face. Seeing Djinjer awake, Lorna let out a dramatic sigh as she placed her hand over her heart. "Thought you were a goner," Lorna murmured out, then quickly stood up and yelled out, "What were you thinking just collapsing right here? You could have _crawled_ back to camp!" Djinjer followed Lorna's finger as she pointed across the street.

Had she really been so close to the Livery?

"All of the Emberstone villagers made it back _fine_. Zathaniel and Liam have also just brought reinforcements. I was a bit surprised to see only humans with him, but it turns out father is planning something of his own. Anyway, up you go," Lorna held out her hand. Djinjer took it, but as she tried to pull herself up, she only pulled Lorna down on top of her. "Didn't think you were that heavy either," she murmured.

Months ago, this sudden close contact between a beautiful woman and herself would have excited Djinjer. She would have been caught up in Lorna's beauty, her soft skin, her scent. Lorna grinned at Djinjer, then chirped out, "No pain, right?"

Lorna moved off of Djinjer and stood up again just as Djinjer ran her hand over what had been a terrible wound. The armor was busted, the cloth under it was ripped, but the skin was healed; scarred but healed. Djinjer groaned and braced herself against the tree and stood up. She sighed softly, then muttered out, "Prince Liam's fighting?"

Lorna smiled, "Of course he is. He feels as though he owes it to Gilneas to be there, fighting every moment he can." If there was one thing she noticed, it was the Lorna was smiling and softly blushing.

"Fancy him, do you?" Djinjer asked, slowly making her way to the livery. Lorna walked beside her.

"It would never work," Lorna sighed. "But he sure is nice to look at."

Djinjer nodded in reply and didn't plan on saying anything else until she added, "Zathaniel was with Liam whenever he and our people showed up." Djinjer was shocked to see all of the uninfected human population, young and old, standing there with guns and swords. "Liam saw you first and raced over to you, Zathaniel…. Well, I was shocked that he didn't so much as even stop to check on you. He seems different, Djinjer. Very different. Something in there," Lorna stopped and looked at the city, "changed him."

"What are all these people for?"

Lorna turned to her with a smile. "The time has come, Djinjer. We've rallied and armed every Gilnean. It is time to meet the enemy head on. I was told the tale about the leader of these disgusting Forsaken. Sylvanas, once a ranger in the High Elf army, was turned banshee by the Lich King. She broke free from his will and is now called the Queen of the Forsaken." Djinjer felt…stupid. She didn't know anything about elves besides the ones she met. And she didn't know if there was a difference between High Elves or Night Elves. Nor did she really know anything about the Lich King. When she was younger and acted up, her mother always used to scorn her and scare her by saying, "The Lich King is going to get you if you don't behave!" Was it the same Lich King?

Lorna's pleasant tone turned into a very serious, almost angry tone. "It's time to settle the score with Sylvanas and her Forsaken dogs once and for all! Liam is heading the assault from this gate. King Greymane and my father are leading the assaults on the other districts. If you need anything at all, Djinjer, be it a new weapon or simply gear, speak to Krennan. He's brought quite a bit of simple armor. Most of our men and women are wearing chain mail shirts under their clothes."

Djinjer looked around and sure enough, she could see the outlines of armor underneath their shirts or dresses. Djinjer turned her attention to the filthy people wearing brown, dusty clothes. Most looked too tired to keep their eyes open and some were greedily eating a strange-looking soup. "Lorna," Djinjer asked, placing her hand on Lorna's shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Why are there no Emberstone children?" Djinjer and Lorna looked around. Many children were being very careful of their parents' weapons and some where asleep near the citizens whom were just too old to fight.

"That's…" Lorna looked around quicker, "a good question." She quickly walked up to Marcus, whom was handing out linen blankets. "Where are the children?"

Marcus, and nearly every Emberstone villager stared at her in horror. Lorna, obviously noticing these stares, turned back to Djinjer with a pleading look. Djinjer took one look around and walked over to a pile of boxes. She easily made her way to the top of them and shouted, "If you do _not_ tell us where the children are, then how are we to help?" Everyone became silent as all eyes fell upon her.

"You can't help!" a woman shrieked out.

"They took our children the moment they invaded our town. You want to find our children? Then look in the water and you'll find their bodies!" A silent, but very powerful rage seemed to fill everyone at that very moment. Women clutched their children tighter and men gripped their weapons, as if saying they were ready to fight _now_.

"I just don't believe that," Djinjer murmured, hopping off of the boxes.

"Surely they wouldn't lie," Lorna quickly whispered. "And Liam-"

"I'm going check."

"No!" Lorna snapped, grabbing Djinjer's arm tightly. "You're so weak and exhausted right now you can't even turn back into a worgen. How do you expect to protect yourself?"

"Lorna," Djinjer yanked her arm from Lorna's grasp. "I'm _going_."

"Wait!" Lorna quickly ran to pick up her gun and then ran back to Djinjer. "I'm coming with you."

"Good decision," Djinjer added. Together, the two of them ran from the Livery towards Emberstone, but didn't quite take the road in. Instead, they made their way around the village, towards the open water front.

"Shouldn't we call for Liam and Zathaniel?"

"No," Djinjer said softly. "They need to get back to the Livery. Our people need them."

"But you realize this may backfire and slow us down even more, correct?"

"How so?" Djinjer asked, carefully making her way down the small, but very slippery, rocky slope.

"What if after realizing we're gone, they come back looking for us and slow down the entire counter attack?"

"Eh…"

"'_Eh_'? That's all you have to say?"

"You shouldn't have come if you were just going to complain the whole time," she snarled out, but Djinjer turned around and grabbed Lorna by the waist as she was trying to make her way down the same slope.

"Thanks," she breathed out. "Look!"

Djinjer spun around and looked to where Lorna was pointing. Djinjer's eyes landed upon the water, her stomach churning…but not in the bad way. There were absolutely _no_ bodies in the water, which made her wonder and worry about where the children really were.

"Where do you think they are?" Lorna asked.

"I don't know, but that house looks promising," Djinjer added. In the distance was small, dark house, but considering there were only a few Forsaken patrolling it, Djinjer could only assume something of little importance to the Forsaken was inside of it. She and Lorna carefully and quietly made their way towards the house, taking coverage behind a broken stone wall. "I want you to start the attack. Take out the Forsaken at the door."

"No," Lorna shook her head. "If the children are inside, they could get hurt."

"Fine," Djinjer sighed, spinning around to peep over the wall again. She quickly ducked down. "Forsaken, three o'clock. Not anywhere near the house. Once they start running in this direction, I'll attack them. All of them. I want you to race into the house. If the children aren't in there, you better get your butt back here and shoot something."

"I hate taking orders," Lorna sighed. "Alright. Here goes nothing." Djinjer removed her sword from its sheath as Lorna propped her gun up on the wall. "Three," Lorna counted, "Two…" A loud bang rang through the silence of the area, alerting _all_ of the Forsaken guards around the house. The one Lorna shot fell to the ground and didn't move. Lorna quickly took aim again and shot another with perfect precision.

"Go, go, go!" Djinjer shouted as she stood up and hopped over the wall. Sure, she was in her human body, but would there really be a difference? As the Forsaken slammed his crudely made sword against her own, Djinjer realized the answer to that question: Yes! Djinjer strained against the single Forsaken's weapon, which brought something _else_ to her attention.

Djinjer tore her eyes from the Forsaken's empty eyes to focus on the large crack in the sword she wielded. The Forsaken seemed to notice it as well and laughed, slamming his sword against hers again. She stumbled, but braced herself as he did it again. "Stop it!" she snarled at him, attempting to kick him, but Lorna was right. She _was_ too weak to fight properly.

Djinjer couldn't help but gasp in horror as the Forsaken hit her sword again, this time from the other direction. Half of the blade suddenly went soaring, seeming to disappear before her very eyes. The Forsaken hunched over, laughing. Infuriated, Djinjer let out a roar, slamming the sword against the Forsaken's neck. He seemed thoroughly shocked by it. Considering her sword was still so very sharp on its edges, Djinjer didn't unhand it.

"They're here!" Lorna shouted. "All of them!"

Djinjer ignored the searing pain that filled her arm as his sword made contact and again, she charged him, slamming her sword into his neck again. This time, it fell from his shoulders and his body dropped to the ground. "Bastard!" she snarled at his corpse.

Djinjer sheathed what was left of her sword and rushed over to the house. "There was a Forsaken behind the house, Djinjer! He released a flare! I think it was a signal!" Lorna suddenly gasped. "You're hurt!" Lorna noticed.

"It doesn't bloody matter!" Djinjer shouted back. "We have to get these children out of here and _fast_!" Lorna quickly ripped from fabric from her dress. "Might be a bit dirty," Lorna murmured as she quickly wrapped it around Djinjer's wounded arm, "but it'll have to do."

"Lorna, we have to hurry. We have to get out of here!"

"Might be too late," Lorna murmured. "Horses!" Djinjer could barely make out the sounds of horses in the distance, but quickly, she reacted.

Djinjer pulled Lorna into the house, slamming the door shut. She didn't bother looking around at the single room house, filled with children. Instead, she dashed over to the back window and Lorna quickly said, "You go out first. I'll block the door. Children, follow the nice lady out and _listen _to what she says. Do _not_ run from her."

"Yes, ma'am!" a few of them murmured weakly. Djinjer quickly climbed out of the window and immediately, children began following her. She grabbed them up, placing them on the ground and there they stood, frozen in fear. Some gripped each other in fear, others just stood still. The room only had a few children in it whenever there was a pounding at the door.

"Go away!" Lorna shouted. "No one's home!" One child scrambled out of the house so quickly, he fell face first onto the ground. The final child slipped out of the window and into Djinjer's arms. "Don't let them get caught," Lorna whispered quickly. "And don't worry about me."

Lorna rushed to the window, shutting it quickly and pulling the curtains closed. Almost immediately, the door burst open and though the children jumped, they didn't make a sound. Djinjer listened intently to what was going on inside. "So the Banshee Queen has sent assassins?" She sounded so brave.

"Lorna, is that how you greet old friends?" rasped out a voice that seemed only slightly familiar.

"G…Godfrey? Liam had said they couldn't find your body…so our worries were true." Godfrey let out a raspy laugh. "You would betray your kingdom out of spite?"

"My kingdom?" He laughed again, but this time it was clearly sarcastic. "My kingdom is no more! Your father and Greymane saw to that…. No, Gilneas died when they allowed murderous beasts to reign free. …Unchecked." There was a click of Lorna's gun followed by a few soft footsteps. "Now lay down your arms and surrender. We are not here to kill you. Not yet."

"Hah! I'll never surrender! You'll have to kill me!" There was a loud blast, which again startled the children, and then shuffling. "Let me _go_!" Djinjer heard a thud followed by the sound of a soft groan.

"Brilliant." Said another voice. "Can't believe you were right about this."

"I've come to know Crowley's daughter. She'd make a stupid, self-sacrificing decision just to save a few kids. Now quickly! We must head back to the Forsaken Front before we are discovered!"

Djinjer's stomach suddenly did a flip and quickly, she moved to the side of the house. She watched as two undead beings ran out of the house followed by a third, whom carried Lorna's unconscious body. "Stay here," she said to the children, and quickly dashed inside of the house, grabbing Lorna's gun. She made her way back outside of the house and to the children, where they waited until all signs of the Forsaken were gone.

Djinjer made sure to keep an eye on the children as they ran in a group. It was amazing that despite obviously haven being starved, these children ran with a surprising amount of energy. They didn't complain, they just wanted to go back to their families. "Careful," She said to a child as she helped her climb the slippery, rocky slope near Emberstone village.

The child looked up and let out a scream, falling backwards into Djinjer's arms. Djinjer looked up, fearing the worse, but found Zathaniel crouched down with his hand out. "No need to be frightened," she said to the children, many of whom decided that holding onto her armor would make them safe. "He's on our side."

"Some of the villagers told us what happened," he said as a boy rushed forward and began climbing. Zathaniel snatched him up when he was close enough to him and placed him beside Brutus, whom seemed to bring happiness to the boy. "Liam sent me to check on you and Lorna." A few more children accepted his help up. "I see you. I don't see Lorna."

"Don't," Djinjer said, forcing the girl in her arms to climb. "Get back to the Livery. Tell Liam they have Lorna."

"Who has Lorna?" he barked out as he stood up. The children cowered in fear.

"Godfrey and his men. He's a Forsaken now. I'll handle the children…just go. I have _no_ idea what they intend to do with her."

"Crowley and his men are trying one last attempt at protecting Gilneas from the north." He hopped down the slop and sighed. "I'll see to it that _he_ knows what's happened. Get those kids back and inform Liam yourself."

Djinjer blinked after him as he dashed off into the forest. She couldn't remember a time he had been _that_ short with her. Ignoring his temper, Djinjer finally got the kids over the rocky slope and made her way up it as well. They began their trek again back to the Livery, where many men and women let out howls of happiness. Children ran to their parents and only three stood there with tears in their eyes. Those that knew these children called them over and gave them big hugs.

Liam, on the other hand, nodded at her, but then quickly got to the point. "Where's Zathaniel and Lorna?"

Djinjer quickly explained, which only added more fuel to their boiling hot, rage filled fire. Krennan healed her arm and despite a small argument, Djinjer was handed a new weapon. The rapier was flimsy and far too light for her taste, but she didn't argue and she didn't throw away the hilt of her sword.

For hours they waited with no sign and no word. Liam stood by her side the entire time, as if gaining comfort from her company.

"Come _on_, Zathaniel," Djinjer murmured as she made her way to the top of a small shed. There, she stood and strained her human eyes to see further.

"Any chance you can transform yet?"

Djinjer looked down at the Prince, whom was staring at her with intense eyes. "Didn't think about that, to be honest." She took a deep breath as she looked out into the forest. "You know, it's a bit awkward."

"Having me watch?"

"No," she said, grinning as she met his gaze again. "Trying to force it out is awkward. I feel it the Curse in me. I always do…here," she placed her hand on her chest, just under her breasts. "It's very difficult to explain." She turned her eyes back to the forest once more, then shut them tight.

Changing from human to worgen was by no means painless. Every muscle in her body burned and felt as though it were being ripped from her body. Her bones cracked, shifted, and even grew in some areas where she previously had no bones. And when it was all over, there was absolutely no pain whatsoever.

"I don't think I'll ever be used to seeing that," the prince murmured. Djinjer turned her worgen eyes to his and fought not to grin. She could now see what the fuss was about. The Prince was, indeed, _very_ handsome. In fact, he reeked with masculinity, which she could literally smell on him. It sent a shiver through her, which immediately horrified her and instantly, Djinjer turned her eyes to the forest.

She blinked a few times, almost confused by how much her vision had increased. She could see dark figures moving in the distance, but there were no obvious signs of combat. "I don't see anything," she murmured. "Where could they be? How can we know what's happening? I _hate_ this."

"Perhaps you are looking in the wrong area," the prince murmured, which irritated her, but his tone captured her attention once more. She looked at him, only to find him staring across from her. As if feeling her questioning glare, Liam pointed. Djinjer's head snapped in the other direction and to her complete surprise, there was Zathaniel, carrying Lorna on his back. "Lorna! You look perfectly unharmed!"

"That's because I am!" she said as she hopped down from Zathaniel, whom stood straight and…seemed to be avoiding her gaze. "Father has also told me to say, 'We are ready!'"

Liam nodded and made his way over to his horse. Djinjer hopped down from the shed and approached Zathaniel, but he suddenly walked away from her, approaching Krennan and speaking in soft whispers. It sounded all like growls from here. Biting back the growing irritation, her attention turned back to Liam, whom called out, "People of Gilneas. It is time. Hug your children and say your farewells, but do _not_ tell them good-bye. I refuse to let anymore of our families suffer. Let's drive those undead bastards from our city!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** _Terribly sorry it took so long to write this out guys. I've been really busy and it didn't help that I had a bit of writer's block. I went ahead and releveled Zathaniel in hopes to get a better feel for this scene, but alas, it still didn't give me much inspiration. Seriously, that Battle for Gilneas quest is a real inspiration crusher, considering there isn't much for _**you** _to do. Also, bring Kleenex!_

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Even with her enhanced worgen hearing, Djinjer couldn't hear a sound. The people of Gilneas had gathered together with their weapons ready, standing ever so faithfully behind their beloved prince. She quickly looked around and rose to her tiptoes, spying Zathaniel up front near the prince. They spoke softly to one another and from the looks of it, Zathaniel was informing the prince of what he had seen on the inside of their precious city.

Whatever Zathaniel was saying, she could tell it was upsetting the prince. Finally, he hopped back onto his horse and turned to them. Even from where she stood, Djinjer could see the excitement and determination in his eyes.

"The Forsaken think we're weak! A broken people! They think we'll roll over like a scared dog!" For a moment he faltered in his speech, his eyes dashing to Zathaniel, whom grinned up at him. For a split second, she saw a boyish youth in his expression. "How wrong they are…. We will fight them in the fields until the last trench collapses and the last cannon is silenced! We will fight them on the streets until the last shot is fired! And when there's no more ammunition, we'll crush their skulls with the stones that pave our city!"

Djinjer couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of power course through her, as if she could take on anyone or anything at that moment! Her fellow Gilneans seemed to be feeling the very same wave of emotions.

"We will fight them in the alleys, until our knuckles are skinned and bloody and our rapiers lay on the ground, shattered! And if we find ourselves surrounded and disarmed…wounded and without hope…we will lift our heads in defiance and spit in their faces! But we will _NEVER SURRENDER_!" His horse reared up and in response, the people of Gilneas let out a battle cry of their own!

The prince swung his horse around and shouted, "For Gilneas!" Djinjer gasped as the humans whom stood behind her pushed forward. All of them ran together as a group. Some held up their rapiers, but most gripped their rifles.

"What are you waiting for?" Krennan called out to her. "Get a move on!"

Djinjer nodded at him and quickly ran to catch up with the group. As soon as she stepped into the city, Djinjer couldn't help but freeze. This once beautiful, lively city was now dark and eerie. Banners were lazily hung everywhere, banners that bore a symbol she was not familiar with. "Attack!" The prince called out, though there was really no need to shout it. Everyone was firing their guns or charging into battle, except her.

The Forsaken, it seemed, didn't know what hit them. They were all quite startled by the angry mob of humans and the large amount of mastiffs they brought. Men and women, obviously untrained, were determined to take back their city, regardless of whatever damages they, themselves, might face. She could see the wildness in their eyes, the absolute desperation. Everything the prince said was true. They would fight to their very deaths, rather than keep running.

"This is but a small victory!" said a breathless Liam. "We'll clean their filth away, inch by inch if we must!" And off he sped on his horse, with their people following him. They fought and _slaughtered_ every Forsaken on the way, whom she began noticing were all garbed in simple armor-with Gilnean clothes underneath. Of course it would be a simple victory if most of the soldiers they were fighting were just as inexperienced as most of the Gilneans were.

"Damn it!" Liam shouted. "Abominations are blocking the way towards the military district! This won't be easy!"

But at that very moment, a loud creaking and groaning reached their ears. The quickly wearing out Gilneans turned their attention to the alley which the sound was coming from. Djinjer pushed passed the crowd. From the top of the street steps, Djinjer had absolutely no problem spotting at least a dozen abominations. "The villagers were thankful to have Emberstone back. They brought us a little something to help against the Forsaken!" said Lorna, walking in front of a large cannon with at least two more behind her.

The prince laughed, actually _laughed_. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Lorna!" She smiled back at him and Djinjer…felt a twinge of something, though she didn't know what. "Let's get those cannons manned! The rest of you, lure the abominations into the open!"

"A job for you and me, it seems!" Zathaniel growled into her ear, snatching her by the wrist. She had little choice but to run after Zathaniel, whom released her as soon as they crossed the bridge. The two of them dashed between abominations, scratching and clawing-anything to get their attention. It worked, because all of them stomped around, swiping at them with their crudely made weapons, but instead, ended up only hitting each other.

"Come on!" Zathaniel shouted to her and immediately, Djinjer made a bee-line for the bridge. She dove as a cannon was fired and was instantly showered in altered body parts. She shook herself clean as she stood up, but Zathaniel grabbed her again, yanking her down just in time to miss the firing of the second cannon.

"Gilneas will prevail!" Liam shouted at the bottom of the steps, his army of untainted humans behind him. Djinjer once more stood up, this time, with Zathaniel beside her. Another cannon was fired, but was aimed high and landed further down the street. "Crowley's troops are up ahead! Press on!"

Djinjer quickly picked up speed with Zathaniel beside her. She was determined to stay by his side, to continue to be relied upon by him. And then they all made their way into the military district. Worgen now filled the streets, attacking more experienced Forsaken soldiers. Some of these worgen fought with weapons and spells, but most fought with only their sharp claws as their weapons. Priests and even some druids stood tall upon crates, broken down Forsaken catapults, or even low roofs as they healed their worgen companions whom were quickly being overwhelmed by the enemy.

Liam's "troops" quickly engaged in the battle, as if this was what they were made for. A year ago, these people probably wouldn't have even thought of picking up a gun or a sword… Or that they would be fighting to save their city from horrible creatures that appeared only in the worst of one's nightmares. With each step she made, with every thought of attacking a Forsaken soldier, the enemy was quickly overwhelmed. The Gilneans that had run out of ammunition were either using their rapiers or their empty guns to bludgeon the Forsaken with.

For the most part, Djinjer stood there, gazing at everyone, uncertain of what she should or even what she _could_ do. So much fear lingered in her mind that if she made one wrong move, if she forgot herself, she could very well harm an innocent Gilnean. Just because the curse was now manageable, that didn't mean any of them needed to go around infecting people with the Curse.

But look at them, she thought to herself. Humans were fighting here and there and worgen were fighting around them, as if keeping that very thought at the forefront of their thoughts. Djinjer walked forward, merely looking around at the battle taking place around her. She spotted Zathaniel, whom had one Forsaken's neck clenched in his sharp teeth while he swiped at another. His weapons remained untouched, which made Djinjer think…perhaps there was no real way of conquering the feral beast completely. "Attack!" shouted a new voice. "Slaughter _every_ Forsaken! We will take back our city!"

"Watch out!" a human shouted, their voice laced with horror.

Djinjer spun around. It was hard to not notice what the fuss was about. Slowly walking forward, its flesh jiggling and swaying, was by far the most disgusting creature she had ever seen in her entire life. Its flesh was more patched than any abomination. In fact, with such large patches pieced together by smaller pieces, Djinjer couldn't help but think this was originally an ettin, altered with human flesh to become the Forsaken sure method of taking out any Gilnean stragglers.

Despite his slowness, the creature lifted a crudely made, obviously ettin weapon, and swung it, hitting Forsaken, Gilneans, and Worgen. Though not killed, all were obviously injured. "Fall back!" shouted a human, panicking.

"Gorerut _crush_ puny worgen!" the beast slurred out.

"No!" Liam shouted. "Band together! There is only one way to defeat this beast!"

"He's too strong!" shouted Crowley. "Use the catapults to take him down!"

Djinjer blinked for a moment, then turned around. Her back had been pressed against a catapult the entire time. She quickly made her way around it and climbed inside, eyeing the so called ammunition in the catapult. It looked like scrap metal that was hardly melted down together, but Djinjer ignored it. "Know how to use one of these things?" breathed out a wheezing Aubrey.

"Nope," Djinjer replied, cranking the catapult to a higher position. "But does that really matter right now?"

"I should think so," Aubrey climbed up beside Djinjer. "Don't want to go killing our side."

Aubrey grabbed a hold of the lever, moved it around a bit and then hopped down, shouting out, "Fire!"

Djinjer grabbed the larger lever and yanked down. She was only slightly startled as the entire catapult jerked and sent the scrap metal soaring through the air. It hit the distracted creature right in its neck. "Loading up!" Aubrey shouted. "But I don't know how long this machine will last!"

Another hit was made from an opposite catapult, manned by humans. "Fire!" shouted Aubrey and again, Djinjer pulled the lever down, but this time, instead of hitting the creature in the neck, she hit him on his very large, disgusting, swollen eye. It let out a howl and reared up, which was extremely lucky for them. The other catapult's ammo slammed into the creature's abdomen and burst through it. "Fire!" Aubrey shouted and again, Djinjer fired the machine.

Djinjer let out a yelp as she threw herself off of the catapult as it lurched forward. Its ammo was sent soaring through the air as it crumbled into a heap, smoke rising from its part. "Get away from there!" shouted Djinjer as she quickly backed away from the smoking catapult. But as Aubrey turned a took one step forward, the catapult suddenly burst into flames, sending shrapnel soaring everywhere. Her heart lurched, certain that the pieces of metal would embed itself inside of _her_. But instead, her heart sank as she watched a large piece of metal tear through Aubrey's abdomen. Aubrey stumbled, grabbed her stomach and fell.

"No!" Djinjer shouted, rushing over to Aubrey's side. "Priest! I need a priest!" Djinjer couldn't stop the tears from over flowing. It was _too_ easy to cry. She placed her hands on her friend's stomach, whom breathed softly. "Somebody _help_!"

"They can't heal this," Aubrey chuckled out. "I served my purpose, Djinjer." The thick worgen held her hand out to Djinjer's face. Instead of cupping Djinjer's cheek, she placed her hand on top of Djinjer's head, right between her ears. "It's okay. I'm fine. I won't…have to suffer…anymore."

"No!" Djinjer shouted as Aubrey's eyes rolled back, her hand slipping from Djinjer's head. "No!" A worgen priest fell to her knees as she quickly began chanting healing spells, but the wound wouldn't close and Aubrey didn't take another breath.

Djinjer stood up, wiped her eyes, and walked forward. Those that were injured were quickly being healed. _They_ stood up. _They_ joined their army. "Leave the dead behind," Liam murmured, looking around with sorrow filled eyes. "Once we gain back our city…we shall return for them and give them the proper burials they deserve."

"Now is not the time to mourn," Darius called out, eyeing everyone, especially her. "Let us join your father's army, Liam. They'll need our help against Sylvanas!"

Djinjer could hardly think of little else but revenge for _everyone_ that was lost during this entire ordeal. While she joined her worgen brethren, Djinjer couldn't help but continue to shoot glances over her shoulder, keeping an eye on the humans, whom brought up the rear of their army. They turned down many different streets, slaying any enemy they came across. Some soldiers appeared out of buildings and attacked the humans, whom fought with even more strength and energy.

And for the first time since she stepped in Gilneas City that day, Djinjer felt positive that they could not lose. How could they? They were not even united with the King's men and they were already a dangerous bunch. Finally, they came to a clearing, and when Djinjer's eyes fell upon the King. He and his men stood there, panting, but more than ready for battle. "Block their retreat, Liam!" the King shouted to his son. "We've got them right where we want them!"

Genn held his sword out, pointing in the opposite direction. Djinjer's eyes followed his sword and immediately, her heart shivered. The Banshee Queen stared down the King and slowly dismounted her undead steed. She was equally parts beautiful as she was frightening. In fact, Djinjer was _certain_ she had never seen anyone as beautiful as Sylvanas. Her sleek body was covered in armor that seemed quite…illogical, but it didn't matter, did it? She was just like her soldiers: Undead. All of the elves paled in comparison to this undead elf…

"Sylvanas!" the King roared, startling Djinjer. Immediately, Djinjer became extremely thankful for the fur that now covered her flushed cheeks. She didn't need anyone to know she had become so captivated by their enemy's appearance.

The King let out a roar as he transformed and rushed over to Sylvanas, whom, to Djinjer's complete surprised, countered his attack in the most gorgeous, graceful way possible. She, with the others, rushed forward, engaging in combat with Forsaken soldiers and ghostly creatures.

It was hard to focus on the soldiers she fought. Despite being so captivated by Sylvanas, she couldn't help but also remember that this beautiful being was the reason Aubrey and so many others died. And now, she was fighting their King. What if their King fell? How could they ever recover from that? When all of the soldiers were dead, and the ghosts had disappeared, everyone turned their sights on Sylvanas. Those that still had ammunition fired their guns, those that didn't threw rocks, some even began racing forward, and knowing she was quickly getting overwhelmed, Sylvanas glared out into the crowd of angry Gilneans.

"Enough!" she shouted, throwing her hands into the air. A purple and black orb appeared and then quickly exploded, freezing all of them to the ground. They couldn't speak, they couldn't blink their eyes, they couldn't even breathe. "Let's see how brave Gilneas gets on without its stubborn leader!"

Djinjer could see Liam running full speed towards Sylvanas and his father as she readied an arrow. "Father!" he shouted, rushing past Sylvanas. Frozen or not, Djinjer's heart began racing and then stalled as the arrow Sylvanas shot pierced Liam, his blood spurting onto his father's clothes. With a strained grunt, Liam fell to his knees, blood seeping from his mouth.

"What a pity," Sylvanas murmured in such a haunting voice. "That arrow's poison was not meant to be wasted on your whelp." She shrugged. "We'll meet again, Genn!" Sylvanas mounted her steed, gave a mock salute, and sped away. Almost immediately, the spell had broken, and out of Genn's mouth came the most heart wrenching scream.

"LIAM!" he grabbed up his son in his arms, "No!"

With a shaking hand, Liam grabbed his father's shirt. "We did it, father…" The King sobbed, grabbing his son's hand and kissing it. "We took back our city…" Liam jerked, more blood spilled from the wound in his chest and from his mouth. "We took back…" No one moved. No one said anything. They wanted to hear him breathe. They wanted to hear him say something else, but instead…he became silent and limp in his father's arms.

The King shut his tear filled eyes and pulled Liam closer, placing a kiss on his forehead. And all at once, the pain seeped in. Humans screamed out as tears streamed down their faces; worgen howled and whimpered. Djinjer was silent. She couldn't move. She didn't want to move or think. The image of Liam's handsome face filled her memory and she just couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. The skies cracked open, spilling rain on all of them-as if it, too-was crying in anguish. Gilneas…had last its favorite son.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's Note: **First of all, I would like to thank everyone that's given me such wonderful reviews and also-thank you to the readers for actually reading this fic. It means a lot to me and pushes me to keep going. We're getting close to the end of the worgen's starting area and a lot of people seem interested in what's going to happen afterward. Now, it seems that a lot of people are sending me private messages or whispering me in game about why Djinjer isn't as informed about the Horde as say someone like Lorna or Liam. Well, Djinjer IS a country girl to the bone. Her parents are country folk. Meaning she wasn't taught about the Horde or much of anything else outside of Gilneas. :3 So yeah, have a Twitter? Want tidbits of information about the fic that you may not find here? Follow me SerasDjinjer !  
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Just as quickly as everything had unfolded, it just as quickly reorganized. The king moved his son's body to a building, which was only entered by Zathaniel and no one else. Its windows were dimly lit by a single candle and everyone else? They kept silent, but immediately set up a line of defense.

Djinjer stood there for a while, feeling dazed, but eventually pushed herself to where she knew Lorna was stationed. As soon as she entered the building, her eyes met Lorna's. Lorna was flushed and sweating. Her normally perfect hair was knotted and some of it stuck to her moist face. Her clothes stuck to her, drenched from the rain. Her eyes were intense and her face was firm, and yet…Lorna never looked more ready to cry since Djinjer had first laid eyes upon her.

"Is it true?"

Djinjer looked down and slowly nodded.

"So it's true then?" Lorna whispered softly to herself. Slowly, Lorna walked over to the small table and collapsed onto the chair. "Gilneas has lost her favorite son." Djinjer looked up just in time to see Lorna blink quickly, most likely pushing tears back. She raised her hand up to her mouth and Djinjer watched as she chewed on her thumbnail. Lorna suddenly froze and the pain that was in her eyes was replaced with something else. Lorna stood up so quickly, the chair toppled over.

She glared at Djinjer and said, "We will mourn when this is all over but not a day sooner. We will not allow ourselves the luxury of grief while the enemy still breathes Gilnean air."

Lorna looked over her shoulder and nodded at one worgen, then turned her attention back to Djinjer. "My father's men are ready to strike while we still have the Banshee Queen's trail. Just say the word if you're ready. Liam deserves _swift_ vengeance."

Djinjer shifted uncomfortably, turned to whom she knew was Tobias and nodded.

"Let us go at once! We will track Sylvanas down!" His ears twitched, and just like that, Tobias dashed out of the room. Djinjer's heart immediately started pounding as she attempted to follow him. Tobias moved quickly, with ease and grace that she could only dream of. His movements, in fact, were far less humanoid than hers.

As they approached the canal, Tobias crouched down and murmured, "Let's do our best not to be seen, Djinjer." With that said, Tobias launched himself forward, clearing the canal without a problem. Djinjer marveled at his precision, but as she approached the water's edge, she knew she could never clear it.

"Stop thinking like a human," he growled out softly. "I mean…it's not always good to think with your human brain. You were forced to take that body, learn it and use it as your ultimate weapon." He crouched down again, "Spring forward, using your toes to jump-not the length of your feet."

Djinjer crouched and though she was frightened and quite certain she would embarrass herself, she did just as he told her. She threw herself forward while pushing off of the ground with her toes. Djinjer blinked as she stood up, having cleared the canal with surprising ease.

Tobias let out a snort as he dropped to all fours and scuttled towards a break in the wall. Djinjer mimicked him, though she couldn't help but find the humor in his very dog like behavior. His ears perked up as he peaked over the break, then quickly scrambled over it.

Djinjer followed quietly, listening to him sniff the ground. For a moment, Djinjer couldn't believe that sniffing the ground so quickly would help anything. Sure, they were wolf-like in appearance, but did that really change _everything_? Apparently so. Djinjer placed her nose to the ground while keeping her eyes on Tobias and to her amazement, she could smell many things.

First of all, there was the smell of the ground. It was just like any type of dirt or mud she had smelled before as a human, but it was fainter and carried traces of other scents. The main thing she smelled was decaying flesh, an obvious sign of the Forsaken soldiers in this area. There was also a scent that burned her nostrils just a tiny bit. Whatever it was, Djinjer could only assume it was an oil of some sort. Perhaps the scent belonged to the catapults or perhaps other machines of the Forsaken.

But there was something else…

As Tobias came to a stop, so did Djinjer. She smelled the ground with a long, deep breath, then realized it this scent was even stronger in the air. Djinjer tilted her snout up into the air and took another deep breath.

"Sickly sweet, right?" Tobias whispered, his back pressed against the stone wall they were hiding behind. Djinjer only nodded in reply. "That's her alright."

Djinjer opened her mouth to reply, but quickly snapped it shut as her heart suddenly jumped into her throat. "Make sure everything is ready!" shouted a Forsaken. Djinjer, like Tobias, peaked over the wall only to find that this Forsaken wore a different set of armor. She knew what this meant: he was a general of sorts. "The orcs' emissary is ready to meet Sylvanas inside the cathedral!

"Did you hear that?" he whispered to her. "Sylvanas is heading to the cathedral." Djinjer had heard it the first time, but it was the second time that it fully sunk in and Djinjer realized what this meant. Sylvanas could run across them any second now. "Let's hurry!"

While Djinjer launched herself off of the wall towards the other, Tobias ran in the complete opposite direction. Djinjer came to a skidding halt, not even bothering to ask what he was up to. Instead, she merely joined him, running up the steps of the cathedral. "Quick! Hide in the water" Tobias snarled out, hopping over a small railing. Djinjer did the same and landed in the cold, still water.

She immediately shivered as the cold water seeped into her fur, chilling her to the bone. However, she ignored it, as did Tobias. They waited there in the water, but not for long. Djinjer couldn't help but hold her breath as her ears picked up on the heavy footsteps of something other than an undead.

Carefully, she looked through the banister, only to find the Banshee Queen walking silently in front of an undead soldier and a large, green, brute of a creature. "It appears you're losing control of Gilneas, Sylvanas," he spoke in a deep and gruff voice. "Garrosh fears he is going to have to carry out the invasion himself."

The soldier and the green creature stopped as Sylvanas whipped around. As beautiful as ever, the Queen glared at the green creature and said, "You can assure Garrosh that this is a minor setback. Our victory in Gilneas will be absolute." Even though this being was more than beautiful, Djinjer couldn't help but feel hatred towards her, which brought on some sort of sadness. Why did this beautiful being have to be so evil? How could such beauty bring upon such disaster? How could _she_ take away _Liam_?

"You sound very confident, your Majesty. I seriously hope you do not plan to use the Plague. Garrosh has explicitly forbidden it." This…plague…. The mere mention of it seemed to unnerve the green creature.

Sylvanas smiled sweetly at him and spoke in a soft tone, "You'd do well to watch your tone, General. Neither you nor Garrosh have anything to worry about. We've ceased all production of the Plague, as he ordered. We'd never deploy it without his permission."

A relief washed over her, but also seemed to bring a comfort to the creature. He nodded, the cupped his hand over his chest as he said, "I will deliver my report to our leader, then. By your leave, my lady."

"Go with honor, General," but the tone in her voice only showed her annoyance. Whomever this Garrosh was, Djinjer thought, the Banshee Queen did not seem so fond of him. Djinjer gave a look to Tobias, whom placed a finger against his mouth.

The two of them continued to wait there silently, and not a word was mentioned from neither Sylvanas, nor her soldier until the heavy footsteps disappeared. "My lady! Should I order my men to stop the deployment of the Plague? Or are we to continue as planned?"

Sylvanas let out a soft sound, one that displayed her irritation fully. "What kind of question is that? Of course we're deploying the Plague as planned!" She began walking out of the cathedral, "Let Gilneas enjoy their small victory. Not even their bones will remain by tomorrow."

A cold fear pierced Djinjer's heart and she was sure Tobias had the same reaction. He shuddered as he grabbed a hold of the banister. "As you wish," said the Forsaken soldier with a low bow. Only after the Queen left the room did the soldier follow, which was a great relief. Djinjer hated being in such cold water. She and Tobias climbed over the banister and neither could help but shake themselves of any lingering water.

"First there's the attack of the Worgen, then the earthquakes, then the Forsaken, now we have _Orcs_ as well? …I fear the worst for Gilneas." Tobias turned to her, "Get back to Lorna, Djinjer. I'll remain behind and do some more scouting. I mean _no_ offense when I say that you are untrained in this area of expertise."

Djinjer bowed her head. "No offense is taken."

"Be _careful_ out there. You heard for yourself, the Banshee Queen still walks like an elf-silently and nearly untraceable."

"I'll be fine," she murmured as she made her way to the door. "Be careful," she said over her shoulder. As Djinjer exited the main hall, she froze. The Cathedral…how could she have not been affected by it? It was, after all, where she had transformed and where she had infected Zathaniel and some others. Her stomach shivered, but Djinjer refused to think about that. Now was not the time or place to be remembering and regretting.

Djinjer felt extremely lucky to have gone all the way back to their headquarters completely unnoticed by the enemy. As soon as she entered the back door, her eyes fell upon Lorna, whom was just entering the front door. Her eyes were red and puffy, but her face remained unchanged. "Were you crying?" Djinjer blurted out, unable to contain her concern.

"It's nothing," Lorna said, almost irritated that Djinjer noticed her eyes. "I was merely speaking to Zathaniel." Djinjer nodded, feeling an extreme discomfort, but before Djinjer could say another word, Lorna crossed her arms and added, "Weren't you supposed to be with Tobias?"

"Oh," Djinjer cleared her throat and straightened up, "Tobias sent me back. He's remained behind to gather more information. It seems that…horks," Djinjer felt stupid. She knew that wasn't the correct name for them, but she couldn't remember what Tobias called them exactly, "are in Gilneas and one was speaking to Sylvanas. She's going to deploy something called the Plague, against the," she lowered her voice, "hork's orders."

Lorna's arms dropped to her side and she paled. "The Plague? Something so heinous that not even the orcs condone against its use?" Lorna placed her hand on her cheek and then murmured, "You should notify the King. Be _sure_, Djinjer, to tell him that we have trackers on Sylvanas and tell him about the Plague. The decision will be his. Launch an all out attack against the leader of the Forsaken or try to evacuate our survivors." She sighed softly, "We're already moving our elderly and children back into the safety of the city. They'll be so exhausted," Lorna frowned, then turned harsh eyes on Djinjer. "Why are you still standing there? _Go!_"

Djinjer couldn't help but feel even more stupid as she just stood there. She didn't say anything as she walked out of the house and spotted one not far from her, obviously guarded for a reason. Djinjer approached the house and cleared her throat. "I need to speak to the King," she murmured, and the guard in front of the door moved aside, opening it for her.

Djinjer didn't quite know what to expect as she walked into the abandoned house. It was lit only with a single candle and kneeling beside a cot which held the body of the Prince, was the King. "What is it?" he asked softly, not even bothering to tear his eyes from his son's peaceful face.

"Sir, I apologize-" but the king shook his head, and interrupted with, "Get to the point."

Djinjer swallowed the lump in her throat and looked directly at Liam. Liam would have been devastated to hear this news, but would have made a quick decision and acted upon it immediately. For _his_ sake, Djinjer quickly said, "_Orcs_ are now in Gilneas," that sentence alone caused the king to look at her. "A general spoke with Sylvanas about the deployment of something called 'The Plague.' He warned her not to use it, but once he left, she told a soldier to continue on with the plans. Lorna wants to know what to do: attack or evacuate our citizens?"

The King stood up and Djinjer took a step back. He instantly seemed outraged, but then…he looked down at Liam and said, "You present me with the most difficult choice of my life. As much as I want to exact swift and brutal revenge…I must honor my son's memory first. He cared for his people first and foremost. You must be my messenger, girl." He turned his eyes on her and spoke swiftly, "The Undertaker's Pass goes underground below the Northgate River. You must prevent the plague from being deployed while we evacuate our people to Aderic's Repose."

He took a deep breath and sighed. "We captured one of the Forsaken's dreaded bombing bats. I want you…no," he shook his head. "Have another fly the infernal bat as best as they can and unleash hell upon those who seek to bring the Plague to our people. You, girl, will tend to Zathaniel. He is in his family home and I fear he is not taking," he shook his head, "Liam was like a brother to him. He's needs guidance. Go, girl. _Hurry_!"

Djinjer didn't need to be told twice. She rushed outside, quickly told the plan as loud as possible to her worgen comrades, whom quickly began acting as according. It was Elijah whom made his way to the bat, and as soon as the plan was being spread word for word, Djinjer took off at a quick pace, rushing to the house that had been embedded into her memory.

Djinjer didn't even stop to open the door, she merely rammed herself into it with her shoulder. The door burst open with little trouble and immediately, Djinjer knew where he would be. She ran upstairs and to the room where Kimberly had been killed. She expected to see him there, to see their bodies…but found _nothing_. She then backed out and made her way to the Gilneau personal armory.

She didn't need the room to be lit to see the damage that had taken place inside of the room. She could even see the deep claw marks along the walls. All of the glass cases were smashed and turned over. Sitting in the corner of the room was Zathaniel, whom glared at her-his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. "Zathaniel…"

"Leave me be," he muttered.

"We have to leave. The King sent me here-"

"_Leave_."

"I know losing Liam was hard for you, but Zathaniel!" Djinjer yelped as Zathaniel threw himself forward, sinking his teeth deep into her shoulder.

"_Leave_!" he shouted again. "You don't know a _thing_ about how I feel! You're even more emotionless than Lorna! You mourn for no one!"

Djinjer quickly backed away from him, clenching her bleeding wound. She frowned at him. "I mourn, Zathaniel," she spoke softly. "But I also focus on what's a bit more important at the moment…and that's surviving. What would any of them say to you sitting here, when you should be on the move? Our city is moments away from being bombed by the plague, Zathaniel. I don't know what that means…but we're evacuating and the King sent me here to tend to you."

Zathaniel looked away from her and growled.

"You're not the only damn person that lost everyone!" Djinjer shouted. "And if you want to stay here and die, then die! But die knowing _you_ still have family out there! You still have _someone_ that cares! Your aunt, your uncle, your cousin!" Djinjer fought against the tears that threatened to consume her. "I'm going to live…even if I have no one."

Djinjer stormed out of the room, making her way downstairs and out of the house. As soon as she was outside, Djinjer took a deep breath and winced. The pain of his bite was worse than she'd admit. She looked at her bloody hand and sighed. She couldn't leave Zathaniel…and if he was going to just sit there and die, she would be with him. Djinjer turned around, but froze.

Zathaniel was at the door. As soon as their eyes met, his dropped and he walked forward. "Better get a move on…"

"Right," Djinjer murmured and the two of them made their way back through the city. The streets were already completely abandoned and there was not a single soldier in sight, at least, not until they got back to house, where Elijah and two men were speaking to the King.

"It barely made a dent," Djinjer heard Elijah say. "We _have_ to go. They're already firing into the north side of the city."

"I'm not leaving without my nephew." And just like that, everyone turned their eyes upon Djinjer and Zathaniel.

"I'm here, uncle," Zathaniel said firmly. "Let us be on our way."

"I'm afraid the tunnel is full of nasty, knee-biting critters of the worst kind," the King murmured as he walked into the house. The king handed Djinjer a torch. He lit another using hers and handed it to Zathaniel. "Zathaniel, bring up the rear. Djinjer, go first. We'll make up the middle."

"Right," Djinjer murmured, storming down the stairs that he pointed at. Immediately, as soon as she made it through the heavy door, Djinjer let out a shriek of horror. She knew that the tunnel would be full, just as the king told her, but she didn't expect _this_. There wasn't an _inch_ of the tunnel flooring that wasn't occupied by a spider or mouse or something else. All of them were fighting one another or eating dead critters.

"Still such a girl, even if you are-" but Elijah cut himself off as he grabbed the torch from her and swung it low to the ground. The two men and the king pushed past her and then she was shoved by Zathaniel. Djinjer ran to keep up with everyone with Zathaniel close behind her. Over all, it wasn't that bad, running through such a disgusting tunnel. And even though they were safely underground, they could still hear the explosions from above.

Finally, they passed the threshold of another stone doorway, which Zathaniel slammed all too eagerly and together, he and she made their way up the stairwell, abandoning their torches in the fireplace of the small house.

"Your majesty!" Krennan called out. "Everyone's made it through fine." Djinjer was almost shocked to see everyone huddled together. She walked away from the house, ignoring the conversation that was taking place between the King and Krennan. She knew it had something to do with Liam. She also ignored the cries of the Queen as she sobbed in her daughter's arms, whom cried as well.

Instead, she focused on some of the near by Worgen soldiers, whom were working quickly on some disturbed graves. Djinjer looked over her shoulder just in time to see the King, Krennan, Darius, Lorna, and Zathaniel disappear behind the house. The queen and the princess were quickly making their way behind the house as well and Djinjer sighed softly. She was tired of dealing with death. It made her heart far too heavy with sorrow.

A moment later, and Darius returned with Lorna and Krennan. "Everyone," he called out. "I know you're tired and long for nothing more than rest, but we must continue. The King and I have decided for all of us to take refuge at Keel Harbor, where we shall wait for our Night Elf comrades. Please stay together closely. Men," he directed toward the worgen. Djinjer distinctly heard a few female worgen snort, obviously offended. "Surround our people and protect them as we move on. The King and his family will follow shortly."


	17. Chapter 17

_**Author's Note: **This chapter is a bit of a tie over. I didn't want it full of action, nor did I want it to be all about Djinjer combating the Orcs out in the Headlands. In fact, I hate that quest with a passion, so much so that I sort of blew it off lol... Anyway, the next chapter will be bigger and better. I just needed to kill time in the fic with this chapter :P I didn't exactly go over the fic so if there are any typos, I apologize.  
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Djinjer, with a few others, brought up the rear of their party. All worgen, and even some humans, had their weapons readied for whatever danger may jump out at them. Djinjer looked down at her own scrawny sword. Compared to the one she had grown so accustomed to, the rapier she carried felt far too flimsy to do any real damage. She slashed at the air and expected it to wobble, but it didn't budge.

Her attention immediately snapped towards the front of the group, where several howls erupted. And then her eyes found what the fuss was about. Slowly she raised her eyes to the sight that lay before them. What she first saw were large, beautiful, extravagant sails, but her attention was quickly captured by something even more shocking for her country-girl's eyes to see.

In the distance, a large tree like creature walked out from behind one of the houses. His bark covered body was somewhat covered with green vegetation. "We'll certainly be safe now!" A worgen priest cried out, falling to her knees as she sobbed in relief.

"The elves have come to save us!" Another worgen shouted.

Djinjer expected everyone to run towards the elves in an excited manner and instead, humans and worgen alike began collapsing or moving slower. It was as if knowing they were safe now, knowing that they had a stronger ally by their side meant that finally, they could rest.

Djinjer froze and watched the scene before her unfold. All female night elves ran forward, helping others up, chanting spells, and directing them where to go. As Djinjer continued walking, she couldn't help but stare at every elf for a moment before moving on to the next one. They were all different in every manner: their skin, hair, and even the markings around their eyes.

As she walked further into the harbor, Djinjer found massive, grand weapons that looked even more lethal than the Forsaken catapults. She couldn't help but grin as she surveyed these weapons; even they were elegant. Finally, she came across Darius whom bowed low to a white haired night elf. She bowed as well, then moved over to her soldiers, speaking softly in her native tongue.

She _meant_ to turn her attention back to Darius, but instead, found herself staring at the ships. There were many ships and each of them had their own crew, but the nearest had a single male night elf standing at the edge of the ship's dock. Her eyes met his for a moment and Djinjer couldn't help but look away.

Slowly, not really knowing what else to do, Djinjer approached Crowley, who turned to her with what Djinjer could only assume was a smile. "The Night Elves made good on their promise." He said, with such joy in his voice.

"Promise?" she asked, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Darius grabbed her shoulder in a friendly manner, but immediately removed it as she winced. "You should have that healed," he murmured, looking at the blood on his hand while he sniffed at her quickly.

Djinjer shrugged with her bad shoulder, "Not a big deal."

"Druid!" he called over a druid in its cat form. Djinjer couldn't help but laugh very softly. She had never really seen one up close and personal. "A favor?" Djinjer paid little attention to what Crowley said to the druid, and paid even less attention to the druid as she healed her.

Instead, Djinjer couldn't take her eyes off of their Night Elf friends. They were so different, so…not what she was used to seeing. Darius chuckled and once more grabbed her shoulder, but pulled her close. He turned and motioned to the ships. "They're ready to offer us sanctuary in their lands, girl." And then his expression changed. "But all good things, it seems, come with the bad as well."

"What do you mean?" she asked softly.

"Unfortunately, the Forsaken's allies have arrived as well. The orcs are advancing upon us while the Horde gunship prevents the transport ships from taking our people to safety. The druids are holding the enemy back, but they won't last long." He sighed. "We'll never get a break, will we?"

Djinjer frowned. "I don't know."

"Our siege weapons are ready, Darius," murmured the same Night Elf he had been speaking to seconds ago.

Darius grinned down at her. "Why don't you join them in taking out some of the Horde's forces?"

"What?" Djinjer barked out. It wasn't exactly a secret that Djinjer wasn't that talented when it came to machines. She really didn't want to think about the last incident with the catapults.

Crowley let out a barking laugh. "Take this one with you," gripping her shoulder, he shoved Djinjer at the Night Elf, whom nodded and walked away. Djinjer shot Darius a glare over her shoulder but quickly joined the Night Elf.

"Elairdra," the Night Elf called out. "Take this worgen with you."

A green haired Night Elf nodded and ran over to her siege weapon. Djinjer quickly joined her and noticed, for only a moment, that other Worgen were teaming up with Night Elf companions. "Hold on tight," the elf murmured in her sensuous, smooth voice. Djinjer, whom stood in what was apparently the copilot's area (situated just behind the driver's seat) clenched onto the back of her partner's seat. As if needing no means of ignition, the weapon whirred to life. It gave a jerk, which nearly sent Djinjer crashing into the ground.

The elf laughed softly as the weapon moved forward, much smoother than any other contraption Djinjer had dealt with. Many siege weapons moved into the Headlands, easily maneuvering around the ruins that dotted the land. At first, Djinjer thought that perhaps they were wrong: perhaps these "Horde" characters were _not_ invading…because she didn't see anything at this moment.

But then, as they got further from Keel Harbor and deeper into the Headlands, Djinjer could make out figures in the fog, attacking the large tree creatures. As they neared the orcs, Djinjer spotted more of them, riding on extremely large wolves. "_Those_ are orcs," Djinjer said aloud, but to herself.

"Yes," the night elf confirmed. "They have been our enemy for many years. It is a shame that they are also your enemy as well. Now, on my command, pull the upper handles on the side of you." Djinjer looked to her sides and found two sets of handles. "They are the trigger mechanism for this weapon."

"Alright," Djinjer murmured.

The elf turned the weapon, pulled back on a third lever, and murmured, "Fire."

Without a moment of hesitation, Djinjer grabbed a hold of handles, pulling them tightly. The weapon stalled as it jerked, spitting sharp glaives at the enemy. Djinjer looked away from the gruesome scene. How could _anyone_ survive an attack from this weapon?

"Never look away," the elf murmured. "This is only a small part of war," she glanced over her shoulder at Djinjer, then said, "Pull the second set."

Djinjer did as she was told, but could never look out into the field. Now more than ever did she doubt her ability to be a soldier. What were they told? Their enemies were ruthless, savage beings that slaughtered innocent women and children, but what did _those_ enemies say to their families? What if it was the other way around for them?

"You alright back there?" the elf called out, gaining Djinjer's attention. The elf had never raised her voice above a murmur.

Djinjer nodded, "Yes."

"You haven't been replying to anything I've said." It was only now, as she paid closer attention, that she realized they were making their way back to Keel Harbor. "This siege weapon is acting up. It's not handling as well. We have enough out there to make up for this one not working."

Djinjer didn't reply, which caused the elf to turn and look over at Djinjer.

"You can't do that," she said, turning back around to focus on directing herself back to the Harbor. "You can't start doubting _everything_. You absolutely _cannot_ think about what the enemy is losing."

"It's not easy," Djinjer replied, thinking about everything that she had personally lost within the past few days. Those few days felt much like a month in each day.

"You're extremely young," the elf said in a gentle tone. "What you've gone through is very hard for anyone. I'm sure once we have your people safe and sound within the embrace of Teldrassil, you'll be able to think clearly."

Djinjer didn't reply as they returned to the harbor. Instead, as the elf spoke in her native language to another, Djinjer stepped off of the siege weapon and made her way around it. This time, when Djinjer's eyes landed on the harbor, she noticed a few extra people.

Lorna, wearing pants and looking ready to bring hell to their enemies, stood in front of some of the most magnificent creatures she had ever seen. Half of its body was definitely bird in nature, covered with beautiful blue and green feathers. The other half looked as if it belonged to a horse. Antlers sprouted from the beasts head and even from where she stood, Djinjer heard their soft bird like coos.

Looking around, Djinjer found Krennan speaking to an elf. There was no sign, however, of the King or his family. Zathaniel, she noticed, was sitting beside Brutus. Brutus was commonly left with Lorna, as were most hunters' pets. But… Djinjer looked back at Lorna. There wasn't a mastiff in sight. Her ears perked and Djinjer turned around. The Hunter trainer, Huntsman Blake, had an army of dogs around him, hopping on their hind legs, trying their hardest to get the large sack of dog food he had somehow found.

Djinjer quickly hurried over to him, bracing him as he nearly toppled over. "Watch it," she murmured, steadying him.

"Thanks, love," he muttered. "All these hunters' pets, you know. They _do_ have to eat."

"Well, where are their masters? Certainly they should be the ones feeding them."

Huntsman Blake chuckled as he made his way to the large pig sty beside the furthest house of the harbor. He yanked open the top of the bag and began filling the trough with tiny pebbled food. "Some of the hunters are busy with tasks that don't allow easy access for their companions. Some…" he sighed, "Some are dead. Most of these wonderful beasts are too loyal and refused to leave their master's side. I couldn't just leave them behind in the wilderness. I had to literally carry some away." He sighed softly.

"That's awful," Djinjer murmured, petting a slightly furrier mastiff.

A few more dogs suddenly showed up, pushing their way into the mass of other dogs. One, she recognized very easily. Brutus, she noticed, was thicker and a bit more muscled than the other dogs. He stood, walked, and even ate with more poise than the others.

"Djinjer!"

Djinjer left the pack of dogs and peaked around the side of the house. Lorna was waving her down and with a soft sigh, she pushed forward. "I have quite the job for you!" she said with a grin. "We need to get rid of that flying gunship if our people have any chance of escaping."

"So what do we do?" she asked, nodding at Zathaniel whom approached them. Two humans stood behind her, checking out their guns.

"Here's the plan. Keel Harbor had its share of rebel sympathizers in the old days. I've managed to round up a hefty amount incendiary explosives from one of our storehouses."

"Never thought rebel forces would end up saving our tails," Zathaniel murmured with a grin.

Lorna smiled back at him. "We're going to hit the enemy with a force small enough to fly in undetected. The night elf hippogryphs should do the trick." She turned her attention back on Djinjer. "I'm counting on you and Zathaniel to be my main forces. These two knuckle heads are my sharp shooters. I'll be delivering the explosives personally."

"Are you sure that's safe?" Djinjer asked softly.

Lorna laughed again. "Djinjer, I've been around explosives ever since I can remember. I know them inside and out. No one's better suited for the job than I am." She glanced back at Zathaniel, but continued to speak to her. "You _are_ in, aren't you? I mean…you sort have been with us since I saved you."

"Yeah," Djinjer instinctively ran her hand along the mark where she had been bitten so long ago. "I'm in."

"Good, we're just waiting on Tobias to give us the signal."

Tobias, she noticed, was now wearing quite dapper clothes. He also had a rather large spyglass which he pointed to the sky. "Patience, friends. We will strike soon."

The two men quickly made their way to the three hippogryphs. "Zathaniel, ride with me," Lorna essentially commanded. "Djinjer, ride behind one of the-"

"You take her," spat one of the men.

"She can only ride with me if she goes back to her human form and even then…she better not scratch me. I have no problems with throwing her off of the damn beast."

Djinjer immediately changed her mind about going, but as if knowing her thoughts, Zathaniel placed a hand on the small of her back and pushed her forward. "Just transform. It won't take you much to slip back into the body of a worgen when we're up there."

Djinjer pouted, shook herself, and instantly felt shorter. In fact… Djinjer looked up at Zathaniel, then turned her attention to Lorna. Standing beside Lorna as a human girl, Djinjer was maybe an inch of two shorter than her. With a sigh, she made her way over to the hunter, whom continued to stare at her, but this time, Djinjer noticed he was staring at the piercings at her nose and eyebrow.

"What a shame," said the other man, whom she glared at in reply. He grinned at her, tipped his hat, then got situated on his mount. Djinjer did the same, slipping behind the sharpshooter whom had become silent.

"The time to fly is now," Tobias murmured, lowering his spyglass. "Fly swiftly and carefully," he said to Lorna, whom nodded as she and Zathaniel climbed onto their mount.

Djinjer let out a bit of a gasp when the hippogryph suddenly sprung into the air. The sharpshooter she sat with chuckled as she suddenly wrapped her arms around his torso. Together, the three of them silently flew through the air and over the fog. They could still make out the fleet of Forsaken ships heading their way, but what loomed in the darkness of the sky caught Djinjer by surprise.

The large gunship was frightening all on its own. But as they neared it, Djinjer saw the amount of ammunition they had on board and all Djinjer could think was, even if they died-they _had_ to stop this weapon from reaching Gilneas. Covered by the haze of the fog, the three hippogryphs made their way between the two balloon like objects, allowed them to dismount and then flew away.

Her stomach tightened as she watched the three magnificent creatures speed away. There was something sad about the way they seemed to disappear. In fact, Djinjer began feeling uncertain about this mission. How were they planning to escape this blasted flying contraption if their method of flying _just_ left them?


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:** _Again, I apologize for the length of time that this chapter took to complete. It was actually pretty hard considering I had to deal with such inconsistencies within the quests. For instance, only a few hippogryphs are at the harbor AND only a few are taken and yet there are loads of sharpshooters everywhere lol...I also know that he ribcage that's later mentioned had a metal flooring but that didn't seem legit to me, so I made it a rope floor...cause it's more fun. *sage nod* Anyway! I hope you all enjoy. The next chapter _**should** _be out quicker. Also. _ If it isn't, please know that I'm going through a lot right now. Also, no, I haven't deleted Djinjer or Zathaniel. I just don't actually play Alliance that much.  
_

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Djinjer couldn't help but shudder as their only means of transportation vanished. The damp Gilnean air blew mercilessly at them, chilling each of them to the bone. Just as Djinjer unsheathed her rapier, she heard a distinct and very deep voice shout, "Lok'tar ogar!" Fear and excitement ran through Djinjer and without even thinking about it, Djinjer transitioned into her Worgen form without a problem; without any pain at all.

"Attack!" Lorna shouted as she and a sharpshooter shot the very orc that alerted the others. Zathaniel quickly dashed to his side of the Horde gunship, attacking what appeared to be a female, thick with muscle. "Secure the rafters!"

Not wanting to chance screwing this up, Djinjer dashed to her own designated rafter, but was immediately charged by a large male orc. Were it not for the sharpshooter landing a shot in the orc's arm, Djinjer was certain she would have been thrown clear over the railing.

She attacked, but the thin blade of the rapier caused very minor damage to the orc's skin and armor. A rough, rugged laugh caught her attention and glancing over her shoulder, she spotted a female orc, actually laughing at her. Irritated and somewhat offended by this gesture, Djinjer kicked the male orc away from her, spun around and slashed at the female orc's face.

Even if her blade was puny, it still caused a significant amount of damage to the she-orc's face. She was certain she had even managed to ruin the orc's right eye. As a knee-jerk reaction, the orc dropped her double bladed axe and grabbed her face, shouting in pain. Djinjer rushed over, grabbed the axe and yanked it from the wooden floor of the rafter. She spun around just in time to block another assault from the male orc, which came with greater strength and speed.

Two shots later and the screams of the female orc were silenced. Djinjer fought against the orc, their thick axes slamming against one another's. The attacks left Djinjer's wrists throbbing and her forearms burning, but still-she fought. This orc, however, seemed far more trained than she was and anticipated _every_ move she made.

"She's too close to him!" shouted one of the sharpshooters. She glanced at the trio standing on the center of the rafters, which proved to be nearly fatal. Not stepping back quick enough to dodge the sharp, swinging axe, the tip of it sliced through her armor. As her armor fell from her and her shirt split open, the orc raised his axe high into the air.

Djinjer actually let out a yelp of surprise as Zathaniel ran up to the orc, placed one of his pistol's to the orc's head and shot it. Dark red blood and other bits splashed against the red zeppelin balloon. Zathaniel's golden eyes met hers as he breathed heavily. "You alright?"

She placed a hand to her chest, finding that the tip of the axe only managed to graze her flesh. It probably wouldn't even scar. "Yes," she nodded and together, with her new axe, they joined Lorna, whom was quickly working on securing ropes to the rafters.

A large, leather pouch hung around Lorna's thin frame, carrying the explosives. "Question," Djinjer asked.

"Answer," replied one of the sharpshooters. He shot her a grin as she glared at him.

Djinjer turned her attention to Lorna, "What happens if you drop those or you're shot or-"

"Our mission will be complete," Lorna said, pulling hard on the third rope. "It just means that we wouldn't be returning as planned."

"How _are_ we returning, anyway?" Djinjer watched Lorna and Zathaniel swing their legs over the railing and grip the ropes in their hands. She quickly moved to the third rope and did the same.

A sharpshooter pointed up, which Djinjer followed with her eyes. High above them and barely visible, Djinjer could see the hippogryphs circling the gunship. "Make sure you two cover the deck," Lorna said to the men. "Let's give them hell!"

Wearing leather gloves to protect her hands, Lorna slid down the rope with such ease and grace that it was hard to think this was her first time doing such a thing. Djinjer couldn't help but think that as the Rebel Leader's daughter, Lorna was probably trained in many ways that would make her own head spin.

Next thing she knew, Zathaniel was plummeting down the rope and landed beside Lorna. Immediately he began combat and all Djinjer could do was look back at the rope and groan. "One hand in front of the other," said the helpful sharpshooter, the very same one that she rode with. "Leave your grip loose. Instead, focus on your feet. One on top the other, as close to each other as possible. When you get close to the ground, grip the rope with your feet."

Djinjer nodded and looked down, then quickly asked. "And if I fail at this?"

"I'm pretty certain you'll break your legs," he replied as he quickly got into position.

"Great," Djinjer sighed out. She gripped the rope in her hands, looked down, took one final breath and mimicked Zathaniel and Lorna. Djinjer slid down the rope much faster than she would have expected, but at soon as she _thought_ she was nearing the deck, Djinjer clinched the rope with her feet _and_ her hands. The immediate burning in her feet startled her enough that Djinjer let go of the rope. She let out a yelped as she was sent slamming into something that _wasn't_ the wooden deck.

"Good shot!" Lorna called out and immediately, Djinjer rolled over, throwing herself onto her feet, her axe in her hands. She glared down at the unconscious female orc that she had crashed into. An expert shot from a preoccupied Zathaniel made certain that this orc wouldn't get up again. "You need to be a _bit_ more careful," Lorna called out, readjusting the explosives by her side.

"I know," Djinjer called out, spinning around just in time to block an attack from another male orc. This orc, though darker in color, moved slower and with a hint of uncertainty and curiosity in his eyes. Those very human emotions made it harder for Djinjer to fight against him. However, she kept it in her mind that if she and Zathaniel didn't protect Lorna well enough, they could _all _die.

"Come on!" Zathaniel barked out to Lorna. "Finish that orc off!"

The tone in his voice was that of a commander's and Djinjer _never_ let down anyone that gave her an order. Djinjer swung her axe one last time, catching the orc right in the throat. He stumbled and fell over, coughing out blood and gasping for air. The sound was something that unnerved her, that _bothered_ her, but a sharp whistle caught her attention. Zathaniel was right behind Lorna, on the other side of the deck.

Djinjer's heart lurched and quickly, with a bit of panic, Djinjer ran to catch up to the duo. As soon as Djinjer bolted down the ramp, she heard Lorna shout out in a fierce voice, "Hands up, green skins! Now tell me where the damn furnace is!"

A hatless orc looked to another that stood beside him; one that wore a hat. The one that wore a hat slowly raised his hands into the air. "Downstairs," he growled out.

"Tie em up," Lorna commanded as Zathaniel reached into her bag, as if knowing the plan already. He tossed a bundle at Djinjer and rushed forward, grabbing the captain's thick, muscled arms. She quickly made her way to the other orc and watched Zathaniel, mimicking his every move. "Try anything funny and I'll fill you with lead!"

Zathaniel shoved his foot into the back of the knees of the orc, forcing the orc onto the floor with a thud. Djinjer did the same with her own orc, winding the rope around the orc's ankles and attaching it to his wrists. Zathaniel then made his way back to Lorna, pulled out two pairs of four way shackles and again, tossed one at Djinjer.

"Just _try_ and free yourselves. _I dare you_." Djinjer and Zathaniel made their way back behind Lorna, whom slowly backed out of the room, "Thanks, chaps. Let's get downstairs."

None of them said anything as they quickly made their way downstairs. Immediately, she and Zathaniel were thrown into combat, but she was surprised at the lack of guards below the deck. "That must be the furnace," Djinjer heard Lorna murmur. They dispatched two more guards as Lorna ran forward along a thin walkway. Djinjer looked around at the area they were in. If she had to call it anything, it would be The Ribcage. Sprouting from the thin walkway were three more thin "ribs" that were filled in and connected to one another with a thick rope. Judging from the stench, Djinjer was certain this was where everything from rotten food, to fecal matter was disposed of.

In fact, Djinjer couldn't believe her eyes as she stared at the most unusual creatures. They looked much like felines she had only seen pictures of and read about that lived in warmer, dryer places of the world. But they also had webbed wings that connected their arms to their sides and from the looks of it, an armored tail.

The thundering of footsteps definitely caught her attention and at the same time, Lorna said, "We've got the explosives in the furnace room. You heard that… Just hold them off n-now…" Lorna gulped, gripped her rifle and murmured, "That's…one big orc."

Djinjer spun around, her eyes finding the frighteningly large orc. Hunched over and using its hands for extra support was something that could easily be associated with an ogre or even an ettin. How could _this_ creature be the same thing as the green skinned orcs they had slaughtered?

The orc let out a roar, splattering her with his saliva. Shamefully, this caused enough of a distraction that Djinjer didn't even attempt to block his large hand, which slammed into her, sending her soaring into the netted flooring. "Focus!" Zathaniel bellowed out, rushing forward with his own swords withdrawn. Djinjer grunted as she attempted to stand up. First, her right hand slipped through the small opening, then, as she pulled her hand free, she gripped the rope a bit too tightly with her toes, severing the rope easily with her sharp claws.

With another grunt of frustration, Djinjer pulled her leg free as she turned onto her back, then tried to get up yet again. This time, the rope _snapped_ under her left hand, which had been damaged by the claw on her thumb.

She growled angrily and spun around, back on her hands and knees. Careful, so as to not touch the rope with her claws, Djinjer supported herself with her left hand as she grabbed a hold of her axe with her right. With all of her strength, Djinjer threw the double bladed axe at the orc, pleased to see it sink deep into the creature's side.

"C'mon! What you guys doing in there?" shouted a familiar voice from outside the gunship.

Djinjer tried to carefully stand up, but the rope flooring where she was positioned was becoming weak from the damage her claws created.

"Go, go, go!" Lorna shouted.

In horror, Djinjer looked to her left, only to find the large orc face down on the thin metal flooring. Lorna was rushing over to one of the winged lions and Zathaniel, covered in the orc's dark blood, quickly rushed over to her. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" he snarled, yanking her up by the scraps of her undershirt.

Obviously feeling the difference in the "floor," Zathaniel quickly backed away and carefully rushed over to his own winged feline. He yanked at the reigns and immediately, the beast rose into the air and just like that, Djinjer was alone and quickly running out of time. Smoke was now pouring out of the furnace room, which meant one thing: this ship was going to blow at any minute!

Minding her claws, Djinjer ran over to the next open platform, but the beast was already gone. She rushed to the next opening and _that_ beast was also _gone_. Panicking, Djinjer spun around, ready to race to the opposite side of the gunship, but there were no more beasts.

"What are you doing?" shouted Zathaniel. "Get the hell out of there! Now!" Djinjer rushed out onto one of the platforms, her eyes meeting Zathaniel's. In the distance, she could see Lorna and the two sharpshooters hastily making their way back to the harbor. "Jump!" He shouted, moving his own beast closer to the dock. Djinjer two a few steps back, ran, and jumped.

Too many things happened at once.

Without guidance from Zathaniel, the beast suddenly jerked away from the gunship just as Djinjer jumped from the platform. And just as Djinjer jumped from the platform, the furnace ruptured, sending forth the most powerful explosion Djinjer had ever witnessed. The flames scorched her feet and her back as she, for a moment, was _pushed_ through the air, but no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she stretched her hand arm out, she didn't come _close_ to Zathaniel's outreached hand.

It felt as though she had froze in midair, reaching out to Zathaniel. No matter how desperately she grabbed at his hand and he tried to grab at hers, their hands hadn't even come close to one another's. Even with her ears ringing from the explosion, couldn't Djinjer block out the whistling of her sudden descent.

Djinjer couldn't help but let out a scream of terror as she began plummeting towards the ground. There was truly no words to describe how she felt as she soared to her imminent death. The only thing she could do was close her eyes. She didn't want to see the ground, nor her death, getting closer.

"Fly faster, you damn beast!" Djinjer's eyes snapped open as she heard Zathaniel shout. "Djinjer!" he screamed out. He was close enough that she could see his eyes. "Djinjer!" he shouted again as he reached out, even if he wasn't close to her. "Dive _faster_!" the horror that she could see within his eyes was now also evident in his voice. Absolute panic lined this horror and in response to how he felt, Zathaniel slammed his fist against the beast. It roared and then obeyed him, bringing its arms close to its body. It suddenly plummeted through the air, closing the distance between them with amazing speed.

And then, with one quick swipe, Djinjer had stopped falling. There was a loud snap and pain, but Zathaniel's hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist. She couldn't help but gasp as she looked down. Only a second longer… She shuddered. She didn't want to think about that.

Djinjer turned her eyes upward, looking up at Zathaniel. His wide eyes glistened, which, for some odd reason, sent her heart racing. "Gonna pull me up?" she asked, in hopes of distracting him.

He didn't say anything as he gripped her wrist with his other hand and with little help from Djinjer, he pulled her up. "I think my arm's dislocated," she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder. Her heart was still pounding and now, for some odd reason, she wanted to cry. She blinked back her tears and sighed softly as Zathaniel directed the beast to quickly fly away.

Both of them flinched as the sound of the crashing Horde gunship thundered behind them. It didn't take long for Keel Harbor to come into view. They heard cheering, but Zathaniel directed the beast even further. They flew just above a small, forested area and there, Zathaniel had the beast land. Zathaniel quickly got off of the creature, and helped Djinjer do the same, but there was one noticeable difference: Zathaniel had slipped back into his human form.

"I don't know if transforming is a good idea," he murmured to her. "Sit against this tree." She wasn't going to argue with him, not after she felt so completely drained and exhausted, both physically and mentally. "I specifically told her _not_ to take you," he said to her as he gripped her arm near her elbow as well as near her shoulder. "It's as if she's _trying_ to get you killed." He took a deep breath, then muttered, "This is going to hurt."

"Could we count to three?" she asked, grinning at him.

"Sure. Are you ready?" she nodded. "One…" she took a deep breath, "Two-_three_!" He jerked her arm in a swift movement. Djinjer didn't hold back the scream that came with the relocating of her shoulder. The pain was incredible, yet there was some relief there as well.

As soon as he released her arm, she gripped it and leaned back against the tree. Djinjer closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Whenever she opened them again, she found herself to be in her human body with Zathaniel crouched down in front of her, staring at her. "Don't do that," she croaked out. If there was one thing Djinjer hated more than anything, it was someone staring at her so intensely. "I'm fine."

"We need to get going," he murmured, yanking her up to her feet. She knew he meant to be careful, but Djinjer just wasn't ready to get up and move around. Feeling even more worn out than usual, Djinjer stumbled forward and crashed into his chest. Of course he caught her before she made even more of a fool of herself, but he didn't move after that.

His arms stayed around her, holding her against him.

"You can let me go now," Djinjer chuckled out as she steadied herself, but he didn't release her.

Djinjer looked up and couldn't help but freeze. Again, her heart began racing as she stared into his eyes. The anger suddenly made sense. He had been trying to push her away, hadn't he? And the worry? That made even more sense. The look on his face as she fell through the air….

It wasn't Lorna that he loved…

It wasn't Kim…

It was her.

All this time, Zathaniel was in love with her. …but how? How could he possibly fall for her? They spent literally no time together before this catastrophe.

Djinjer's heart began racing. She gulped and couldn't help but shiver in his arms. He obviously misread the reaction, because slowly, Zathaniel began leaning into her. A scream lodged itself in her throat. She knew if she opened her mouth, she'd probably screech at the top of her lungs, but what could she do to stop this without hurting him? Panic seeped in as his eyes closed and his lips parted only slightly.

Djinjer let out a very human yelp as she suddenly shoved herself away from him, with enough strength that she broke his embrace and landed heavily on her bottom. She stared up at him in horror and all at once, spit out, "Whatareyoudoing?"

For a moment, he stood there, frozen. Then his arms dropped as he straightened up. A soft blush ran across his cheeks and then he cleared his throat. As if laughing at them, the creature they had escaped on let out a growling purr.

"Hey!" Lorna's voice broke the silence like a glass being shattered against a wall. "I was wondering what happened! Everyone's boarding the ships," she breathed out, hunching over to pant. "You flew right past the harbor!" When Zathaniel said nothing, Lorna looked up at him.

Djinjer frowned.

Zathaniel was staring at her with a blank expression.

Lorna slowly looked at her, blinked twice, looked back at Zathaniel, then her head snapped back to Djinjer. It wasn't that hard to put together what had happened. Once more, she looked back at Zathaniel with question in her eyes.

Zathaniel turned to her with an expression she had never witnessed before…at least, not on him. There was irritation and fury in his eyes and without another word, he turned and stormed away. The creature looked at them then quickly followed its new master.

Lorna didn't say anything to Djinjer…and Djinjer wasn't interested in saying anything to Lorna. Lorna shrugged then turned and ran to catch up to Zathaniel.

Djinjer slowly got to her feet, watching Zathaniel and Lorna in the distance. Her heart was still pounding and her stomach was still knotted. She cleared her throat, brushed herself off, and followed them. By the time that she reached the Harbor, there was only one ship left. "King Greymane and his family left on the ship just before ours," said Tobias.

Zathaniel let out a chuckle as he crossed over onto the ship and Brutus came bounding his way. "Been a good boy?"

Djinjer was the last human to get onto the ship. After that, several Night Elves boarded, and then…

Then they were off.

Watching her home disappear further and further into the distance was not something easy to watch. Pain filled her heart and tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. Even if they were all dead, Djinjer felt like she was leaving people behind. Her parents, Kimberly…even Prince Liam. But she refused to let anyone hear her cry. Djinjer bit her lip and slowly turned away. She couldn't watch Gilneas fade away.

The journey back to the homeland of the Night Elves was not so easily made. There were times when the weather and waters were so bad, Djinjer was certain they would never make it. Then there was the storm of all storms.

The only ship affected was Elune's Radiance, which was the very ship that carried many noble Gilneans as well as Queen Mia and her daughter, Tess. With the ship sinking, everyone did what they could to save the survivors. The Gilneans were placed mainly on the ship she, Lorna, Zathaniel, and a few others were on.

So honorably, the King had taken to his worgen body and had swam to the Elune's Radiance while it was sinking. She was told that he refused to leave the ship until his wife and daughter were safe. The queen had been healed by a Night Elf druid, and only then, was she and her daughter moved from the sinking ship. For some reason, knowing the King risked his own life to save his wife and daughter, brought comfort to Djinjer. Zathaniel, having helped the survivors transfer from the sinking ship to another stable ship, mounted his newest companion and carefully carried Brutus over to the King's ship, where he stayed for the remainder of their trip. Depressed and feeling lonesome, Djinjer had been asleep when they arrived at Rut'thren Village where her new life was just about to begin.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note VERY IMPORTANT! READ!:** _Just so that all of you don't get confused (though I know some of you won't read this) this chapter goes back a little in time. After discussing the last chapter with my cousin, I realized a lot of people would-like Djinjer-wonder how Zathaniel came to fall in love with her. So! This chapter explains that. I know it seems rushed but I had to kind of squeeze it together. The next chapter will pick up from where Chapter 18 left off. :D Hope you all enjoy!  
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For the first time that he had put on his little play for her family and the rest of Gilneas, Zathaniel really did feel panic for his new fiancée. She had left early this morning, according to her mother, without a word. Zathaniel turned his attention to the window and looked out of it. It was dark out…

When he was summoned by Kimberly's father, Zathaniel assumed it was for _another_ silly dinner or perhaps another one of his polite sessions in which he nearly, but subtly begged Zathaniel to marry his daughter. He didn't expect to hear that Kimberly was missing nor did he expect to react this way. How long had he searched the entirety of Gilneas City? How many times did he question the guards?

"I think I should make another round," Zathaniel murmured to Kim's parents.

"You do that," her father murmured. Kimberly's father was short, thick, greedy little man. He instantly loathed him when they first met, but now…all Zathaniel could see was a worried father.

Never in all of his life did he think he would be forced into marriage. There was so much pressure on Liam to start looking for a bride of his own, so of course his Aunt started speaking with his mother and thus the pressure started on Zathaniel as well. Zathaniel fought hard not to grin as he walked into the hallway of Kimberly's family home. How many times had he helped Liam out? How many young ladies had Liam become infatuated with only for a short time?

Sure, there was rumors that he was quite the lady's man, but no one believed the girls that claimed to have bedded with him. Only Zathaniel and Liam…and the ladies in question, knew the truth. But lately, Liam disappeared and insisted his younger cousin tell _everyone_ that they were together, hunting or fishing, or doing something else. More than once, Zathaniel saw his cousin leaving the presence of a familiar face. If Liam really was involved with Lorna Crowley, then the secrecy was very much needed.

And then…

He lost his father. He fell into a depression that not even his own cousin, whom was much like a brother to him, could shake him out of. "You're going to lose everything," Liam had told him one afternoon. "I know it's hard to hear," Liam added, "But marry _someone_, Zathaniel. Anyone. Your mother is out there on the streets, trying to sell your family's valuables. Do you really want the House of Gilneau to fall apart like this?" Those words may not have lifted him from his depression, but it did make him get out of bed. And when his mother mentioned she had met a nice family, whom had a daughter needing to be married…he went for it. He never expected he'd actually care for the girl.

"Welcome home, Miss Kimberly. Good evening, Miss Djinjer." Did he hear correctly? "Your family is inside, waiting for you."

Zathaniel dashed to the open doorway, his heart pounding in his chest. There, standing behind a rough, rugged looking girl, was Kimberly. Kimberly's eyes were wide and she was pale, obviously frightened to have been out so late. The howls…the missing people. Zathaniel knew the truth of it. If Kimberly had been killed by that monster, he would have never been able to forgive himself.

Zathaniel sighed loudly and pushed past the doorman. He pulled Kimberly into his arms and held her there only for a second. "I've been looking for you _everywhere _in the city!" he said, placing a kiss upon her lips. His heart jumped for a minute, after realizing that kiss was the first true kiss he had given her in their entire time of courtship. With his arm still around a blushing Kimberly, Zathaniel turned to the rugged girl. Just as wide eyed as Kim, the girl stood there in overalls that were rolled up to her knees, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. What she wore on her feet could hardly be called shoes, but not wanting to judge her, Zathaniel bowed slightly. "Thank you. Kim's father called for me when she hadn't returned home. The Night Patrol is out looking for her at this very moment. Bastards told me I couldn't stay out any longer. Please, come in."

Kimberly almost raced to the door. He followed closely and was pleased that, when he glanced over his shoulder, he found the redheaded girl following behind him.

"Oh, Kimberly!" Kim's tearful mother bolted up and rushed over to her daughter, nearly tackling her to the floor. "We thought the worst when you didn't come home!"

"Mother," Kimberly groaned out, "There's no reason to be so hysterical."

Her father stood up from his chair and huffed irritably. "Zathaniel, you'll find that my daughter enjoys tormenting us by never telling us where she's going, how long she'll be out. But I can assure you, she's _always_ with that blasted Djinjer girl!"

Several things clicked at once in his brain. First, the _ginger_ girl that stood beside him was named _Djinjer_. Second, this was probably the "dirty farm girl," that her parents often made snide remarks about. Thirdly…he knew the rumors about Kim having a female lover, about a farm girl that wooed and corrupted Kimberly. He turned his attention to Djinjer, whom was looking him over. Slowly, her brown eyes met his…and he couldn't, for a moment, believe a single thing said about this girl. The longer she stared at him, the more his stomach tightened and without a command from him, his brain seemed to engrave her face in his memory.

"Thank you," he said softly, forcing himself to speak. "Thank you for returning my fiancée home to her family. I will not deny knowing the rumors of you," that might not have been the best thing to say, but he did want to stay honest with her, "but I do not believe them to be true," he quickly added. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," the girl said quickly and quietly as she bowed. "I must return home, now, before the gates close."

His heart felt as though it launched itself into his throat. He couldn't imagine her out there with that…thing. "Please, allow me to accompany you," he forced out. "I would not rest well knowing a young lady such as yourself is out on your own. These are dangerous times."

Djinjer shook her head, her eyes glued on the floor, "I'll be fine. Good evening."

"Djinjer," Kimberly said softly, but Djinjer nearly bolted out of the house. "Please, Zathaniel," his fiancée begged, "Please follow her. Make sure she's safe."

Zathaniel nodded, received glares from both of her parents, but quickly chased after the girl. It didn't take much to follow Djinjer through the city. She wasn't exactly intent on being quiet and it was obvious she was upset. The guards called out to her as she crossed the closing gates and altogether, stopped him from following her. Any man chasing a woman brought on suspicions, but he didn't have to say much to convince the guards he personally knew that he was trying to make sure she made it home safe.

"She was upset," he had told them…and it was true. But why, if the rumors were false?

When asking Kimberly about it the next day, she said that Djinjer longed to be married before Kimberly, hence she kept their engagement a secret, so as not to upset her. He continued asking Kimberly about her friend until it became natural for Kimberly to always bring up Djinjer and compare everything he did to what she did. If there was one thing he noticed, Djinjer sparked much stronger reactions from Kimberly than he or anyone else ever had; she smiled more, frowned more, became happier, became sadder, became more angry.

In one short week, his life became confusing. His mother, so happy that he had found his bride, had killed herself in the basement, where his father's mauled body was kept. As devastated as he was, he and the Greymane family dealt with burial of his parents secretly, just as he wished. Of course there were rumors that both of his parents were taken by the beast, but he didn't mind. In fact, it…was quite easy to get over the death of his mother, which brought _some_ guilt.

Hearing Kimberly gush over her friend…

It felt like he knew this Djinjer girl personally when in truth, he knew nothing more about her. Yet…it was _her_ face he dreamed of every night, despite telling himself it was a _bad_ idea. They visited her…and this time, when he saw her walking out of the field of her family's farm, he couldn't help but feel excited to see her.

He knew this stranger.

He wanted to speak to her. He wanted to hear her voice, but Zathaniel kept to himself as she approached them and said nothing as his fiancée and her friend dashed off together to speak quietly, away from him. He turned his attention back on her father, whom slowly grinned. "You know, you're _only_ engaged," he said.

"And that should mean?"

The grin turned into a full out smile and the older man couldn't help but chuckle at Zathaniel. "What I mean," Djinjer's father said, "is that you seem to have an interest in my daughter. She's a bit rough around the edges, but I can assure you-she's more lively than that rich girl will ever be."

Zathaniel was certain he had heard wrong. Was this man knowingly offering his daughter to an engaged man? "I…can't."

"You can't or you won't?"

"I _can't_," Zathaniel added more firmly.

"But you want to?" When he didn't reply, when he shifted and looked out into the fields at the other workers, the man laughed and slapped his knee. "Imagine it! Rich boy Gilneau, single heir to the Gilneau House in _this_ region and he fancies my daughter a good bit more than his own bride to be."

"Please, sir," Zathaniel looked up at him. "You know how these things work. If you were to say such things…" but her father held up his hand, silencing Zathaniel.

"I wasn't born yesterday, boy. Saying such things would bring my daughter more harm than good. But like I said, you're only engaged now. Best to break it off before you make a mistake."

"It won't be a mistake, I assure you." But if he was so certain, then why did fear creep into the back of his mind?

Weeks passed. Kimberly slowly stopped speaking of Djinjer and instead, spoke of their life together, of the riches she would enjoy, of how she would want for nothing. And he found that he missed hearing about Djinjer. And he missed the farm girl's face more than he missed hearing about her. He wanted to hear more of her calm, soothing voice.

He, not Kimberly, had sent an invitation to Djinjer, along with Mayor Armstead's invitation. But as soon as he laid eyes on the Mayor, he had a strong feeling that Djinjer hadn't come. Had she refused? What if she hadn't even received the invitation? As soon as he laid eyes upon Kimberly, he-for the moment-forgot all about Djinjer. Kimberly was absolutely stunning in her wedding whites. In fact, as she stood there in front of him, tearfully saying her vows, he couldn't help but think…he wasn't making a mistake. He could love this girl.

No one was more beautiful than his new bride. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her as they walked down the aisle together, her arm around his. They made their way to his lavish, family home. Immediately, people flooded in behind them, sitting at the various tables, talking loudly. People congratulated them as they passed by and then…

His heart stopped.

He didn't know if it was really her, because she looked _so_ different. Her ginger hair was pulled up into a neat bun with small bits of hair sprouting down the sides of her face and from behind her ears. The dress she wore was the same quality as most of the every-day dresses worn by the wealthy women around, but it suited her. The olive colored dress was very simple, yet still elegant, showing off curves that seemed altogether nonexistent the previous times he had seen her. Zathaniel looked back at Kimberly and slowly dislodged his arm from hers.

She didn't even seem to notice. Instead, she continued laughing and talking with a group of girls he didn't know. His heart began pounding in his ears as he walked over to the table and cleared his throat. Not seeming to notice him, he cleared it louder and then her eyes finally met his. He couldn't help but smile, " I didn't recognize you at first. And forgive me for saying, especially how improper it is, but you do look absolutely," he couldn't say beautiful, "_wonderful_, Djinjer." More so than his wife. That's right. His _wife_. He couldn't allow this beautiful, simple, farm girl to captivate him anymore.

So…why not indulge in his moment?

Djinjer flushed and stuttered out her thanks as she stood up, and then awkwardly as ever, as _adorable_ as ever, she said, "So do you," and blushed an even deeper red.

He chuckled and said to her, "I'm thrilled you came," which seemed to confuse her. With his heart racing, Zathaniel decided right then and there, to give her a gift he _often_ thought about giving her-since that moment at her house many weeks ago. Zathaniel quickly grabbed her hand and nearly dragged the poor girl up the staircase of his house. Her hand in his felt more right than anything else did.

"I have something for you," he said as he brought her into the weaponry. He dropped her hand, only to shove open the doors, and walked in. Djinjer followed behind him, but seemed intent on not handing him her hand again. "Kimberly said I really shouldn't but…" he sighed softly and looked at her again. "I just had to," she looked at the black box they stood beside. He patted it and grinned. "Open it."

She looked from him to the box a few times, then took a deep breath, "O-okay." He sucked in his breath and held it, far too excited at the moment than he should have been. "You really shouldn't have brought me up here," she said quickly, her face paling. "What will people think-"

Zathaniel placed a finger over her surprisingly soft, full lips. It was simple. He didn't care what people thought. Her eyes widened at the gesture, which brought him back to his sense. He dropped his hand and let out a soft sigh. "You are Kim's dearest friend and now that we're married, you're a friend to me as well. Open it," he smiled and took a step back.

He could have burst into laughter as she sighed, grabbed the top of the box, and flung it open with irritation he had rarely seen in women. In fact, the last time he had saw such irritation, he was a child. His _very_ old grandmother had just baked brownies for her ladies group and he sat there at the table and ate them all.

With her hands still up in the air from flinging the box's cover up, Djinjer stood there, staring at the box's contents…completely frozen.

He was going to ask if she liked it…or if she was okay when she startled him. Djinjer suddenly slammed the cover back down on the box and shrieked, "I can't accept this! It's not right!"

Zathaniel chuckled, but didn't have the heart to tell her it was his very first sword and compared to everything else in this room, it was literally worth very little. "If I want to give one of my swords away, then I can do just that."

"But it's very improper! A new husband giving gifts to another woman, what-"

"will people think," he said in a mock, high-pitched voice. A glint of anger ran through her eyes, but she didn't say anything. "Just take it, Djinjer. I'm already _in_ the Gilneas army. I know what it takes to get in…and I can assure you, having a sword like this will benefit you more than you'll ever know."

"But they give out swords," she murmured in the most adorable voice.

"Only to those with weapons like your own. And even then, they're not much better than that lawn decoration of yours," she blushed and he grinned, "Take it."

Sure, a female warrior was a rare thing. Sure, he thought she wouldn't do that well. But there was some sort of attraction to the idea that this _girl_ wanted to be a _warrior_. Kimberly had told him that she wasn't even of legal age to join the army yet.

Despite these things, if any girl was going to be a strong warrior, it would be Djinjer. She sighed and opened the box again. A soft pleasure ran through him as he watched her expression. She already appreciated this sword more than he ever had. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her eyes glossed over. Kimberly had looked at her engagement ring this way.

For a moment, she trailed her fingers over the hilt, seeming to absorb the detail of the sword just from touching it. He took a step closer to her and unknown to her, took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. Every person had a scent and every Huntsman became used to knowing people better from their scents.

"Alright," he jumped, startled again and quickly took a step back. She turned to him, "Should I take it now?"

The image of her holding such a box in her arms at a party made him chuckle again. "After the party. Right now, you should be enjoying yourself."

She smiled, but it seemed forced out. "Then we better head back downstairs before people start talking."

"You really ought to stop caring what people think or talk about. It's enough to drive a person mad." But with that said, she turned and began walking out of the room. Zathaniel followed closely, taking in her details from behind. She really was quite attractive…but he was married now, he shouldn't think such things. But how could he not?

No one seemed to notice the both of them descending from the stairs together. Djinjer made her way back to her chair and Zathaniel returned to his position beside Kim. Their eyes met again and he couldn't help but wink at her, before he turned back to his new in-laws. There was something about Djinjer that woke up the Zathaniel he was _before_ his father had been killed. Before that tragedy happened, he and Liam made a sport out of meeting women, flirting with them endlessly, only to leave them right as they were ready to rip their clothes off.

Of course…Liam started lingering behind for _that_ part.

But then so much happened. The quakes started…the murders began doubling in number and then it was truly up to him to bring the truth out. He told his uncle, King Greymane, of the tragic hunting trip with his father, of the beast that _he_ had allowed to roam their city, free and unchecked. He assumed he would be thrown in prison with Crowley's men, but instead was "punished" by being forced to lead in their army. Of course, he wasn't anyone special. He was forced to train and lead the new hunters and help the older hunters brush up on new techniques.

With all the time away from Kimberly, their marriage quickly began unraveling. She became unhappy and always argued with him when he was home. They spent no time together and after a short while, moved into separate bedrooms. And then she dropped a bomb on him, one that he refused to let slide by. She was seeing someone else and had decided to not only move _him_ into their home, but her parents as well. Zathaniel turned to his cousin for help and Liam…brought him to Lorna.

Lorna was an understanding friend with a love for mastiffs, including his own. She spoiled Brutus to the finest of steaks and tummy rubs while he drowned his sorrows in liquor. Returning to his duties, Zathaniel sobered up and continued to live with Lorna in town and somehow found himself swallowed up in the rebellion. He learned all about Crowley's still, very loyal followers and their insane amount of smuggled weaponry. Liam, it turned out, knew a good bit more than he let on. Which, after a quick and short affair, Liam and Lorna had become _just_ friends.

He wasn't interested in Lorna. Sure, she was quite attractive and had the same passion about guns as he did, but there was no spark. Instead, he still dreamed of Djinjer. He saw Kim one final time, to retrieve the weapon that he had given to Djinjer, and sent it off to her.

Djinjer never replied. Feeling completely alone in the world, Zathaniel became consumed by his role in the effort of eradicating the worgen from Gilneas. Instead of helping, it seemed all they were doing was finding out that the worgen numbers were adding up quicker than they could hunt _one_.

Then out of no where…_she_ showed up. Standing only a few feet away from him with a helpless, confused expression, was Djinjer. He had to look her over several times before he realized she was now an initiate within the Warrior Branch, but what brought a grin to his face was the sword that he could barely see sheathed on her back. They spoke, caught up on times, and again, hell broke loose.

After that, how many times did he run into her? How many times did things get tough and all he could worry about was _her_? Seeing her hurt, seeing her in combat…terrified him. She shouldn't be in combat. She shouldn't be in danger, ever. Yet she was and she always came out stronger and tougher than ever. And then Lorna told him a female warrior was attacked. It made him _sick_ to think it could be Djinjer but he continued to tell himself it wasn't.

When he and several others rushed to where the two initiates had been sent, he knew for a fact that it was Djinjer whom was harmed. Three worgen towered over her and not a moment later, they were dead-by his own hands. Nothing could ever explain the anguish and anger he felt as he yanked Djinjer to her feet and then turned on her hunter companion. The anger he felt was hardly controlled as he slammed his fist over and over into the young hunter's face. That hunter should have protected her! He should have kept her safe, not hid while Djinjer was nearly slain!

It felt like no time had passed at all whenever Djinjer changed. There they were, ready to face their deaths and Djinjer decided to speed things up a bit. He had heard rumors that bitten or scratched Gilneans turned into worgen, but he had _never_ seen one actually transform. Djinjer screamed in pain, her body jerked and before he knew it, a beast towered over him, it attacked him with such speed that he didn't even have time to panic. All at once, the worgen attacked and the men did their best to fight them off. They slipped away, leaving the brave Darius Crowley behind. It was because of him that their lives had been saved.

Months passed…and once more, he was reunited with Djinjer. This time, a worgen stood in her place, beautiful and deadly. Time passed…she regained consciousness…and before he knew it, they were truly reunited. He held her in his arms as she sobbed over her newly dead parents. The pain she felt could be heard in her sobs and as he held her, he couldn't help but love her. He couldn't help but hold her tighter in hopes to somehow rid the pain from her. Instead, it seemed he only gave her the will to push on, which was better than nothing.

He had thought the worst was coming to an end as they battled their new enemies and cornered the enemy's queen. And before him, before his very eyes, Zathaniel lost the only person he was ever truly close to; the only person he truly had left. Watching his dear cousin die in his own father's arms, was heart wrenching. Zathaniel fled. He hid himself within a house and howled in agony. It was his turn to cry in pain, to attack everything around him in anger. Again, he felt the guilt wash over him and double up inside of him, because this was _all_ his fault.

He did all he could to remedy the situation. He fought harder and did everything he could to destroy anything that stood in his way. Of course she was there with each step; so innocent, so broken. Even if her exhaustion blinded her and slowed her reactions, she fought as hard as she could. Pain, agony, it filled _all_ of their people. Every single Gilnean was affected by this.

To make everything so much worse for him…he forgot himself. He held Djinjer in his arms, after nearly losing her, and attempted to kiss her. It was hard not to. After everything they had been through on their own and together, it was hard not to express how he felt. The worst part was her reaction, the complete terror in her eyes. It made him feel disgusting, but over all, it made him fully realize that no matter how he felt, he could _never_ have Djinjer.

And then, before they knew it, the suffering was over. They had arrived at their new so-called home and after a quick conversation with his uncle, he and many others decided Teldrassil…just would not do. Many of them would make their way to Stormwind City, where they would converse with more humans, possibly find relatives, and discuss recapturing Gilneas with their king.

It wasn't hard to find Djinjer sitting just outside of The Howling Oak. Her eyes were filled with amazement and wonder. She was tired…but all of this confused her and excited her far too much for her to sleep peacefully, yet. Zathaniel sighed heavily, the pain in his chest made it hard to breathe. To fully recover from this and move on with his life, he had to get away from the one person he lost without _really_ losing.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:** _Sorry for how long this took. I just got back from VACAAAATION! *does a little dance* But seriously, this was actually finished before I went on Vacation -_- I just forgot to **PUBLISH** it. Now, I can't take credit for the two new characters: Valisilwen, Qiralyn; because they belong to my cousin. I -needed- new characters to introduce Djinjer to and to be honest...I have a hard time creating Night Elves and thinking of what they're like, so I was lazy and brain stormed with my cousin. I promise! More interesting things will happen in the next chapter, which should be out quicker now that I'm home and feeling better. (had a bit of a writer's block)  
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"Wake up, ma'am," someone shook her by her newly healed shoulder. "Ma'am, we're here. We're at Teldrassil."

Djinjer's eyes slowly fluttered open, she looked up at the young, teenage boy and grinned. "Thanks, kid." And then her eyes focused past him. Night had fallen, but it did not hide the largest tree she had ever seen. In the distance sat a dark, shadowy figure. Its roots were so large that even _they_ had small, average sized trees dotting their lengths. The bark of these trees were more different than any tree she had ever saw. Instead of a lovely rough brown, they almost looked like a smooth silver.

Djinjer quickly sat up and looked around. All of the other ships were being moved to a more secluded area, but they were also very much empty. There was only her ship left…and it seemed not that many people were keen on waiting around to welcome the last few Gilneans. Djinjer got to her feet and stumbled forward, crossing the elegantly carved bridge and though she felt completely and utterly lost, Djinjer found one familiar face. Krennan Aranas stood with another Gilnean, speaking softly.

"Where is everyone?" she murmured as she approached the alchemist.

Lazily, or perhaps sleepily, Krennan outstretched his arm and pointed up the path. There, she noticed a faint, pink glow, emitting from beneath a mandrake. Many of her people walked into the light, only to disappear. "They're in the Night Elf capital: Darnassus. This is it…" he sighed, "our new home. I'm not sure if I'll ever feel like I truly have a home again."

The man he spoke with nodded in agreement. Krennan looked around slowly, then turned his eyes on her and smiled. "We mustn't be unappreciative of what the Night Elves have offered us, though. Their race is not one to throw out idle welcomes to just anyone. It is a true testament to faith and generosity that they've taken us in."

Djinjer was quiet for a moment, then asked, "So you just walk in?" Krennan nodded. "Alright then…goodnight, Krennan."

"Goodnight, Djinjer."

Djinjer hurried to the mandrake, keeping her eyes on the road. "Welcome," the night elf murmured as Djinjer walked into the light. An immediate blush filled her cheeks as she was suddenly teleported, without thanking the elf first.

Teleportation was not something Djinjer enjoyed. She felt slightly dizzy and her stomach felt tighter than ever, but as she opened her clenched eyes, Djinjer felt as though she had walked into a dream.

Small islands dotted the silver, shimmering water. White stone bridges connected these small islands, which held gorgeous and obviously old stone fixtures. All of the small islands held what appeared to be small temples, and in the distance? Djinjer could see even more elegant buildings, some were even made out of wood.

As Djinjer walked into the city, she was greeted and welcomed by elves, whom bowed low and smiled warmly at her. Some of the elves even looked excited to see her, and Djinjer couldn't help but think that these elves were somehow younger than the more composed elves-even if they looked exactly the same in appearance.

And then Djinjer knew, all of these so called temples were _far_ from a temple at all. Across from her stood the most lavish, most elegant temple. She couldn't even dream of such beauty. "Behind you," an elf murmured and Djinjer obeyed the voice. She turned around only to spot what she _knew_ was her future home. She looked around, wondering if it would be a bad thing to go trudging through the water. It was so pretty, though, that Djinjer decided not to dirty it. She carefully walked over the nearest bridge, walked around a tree, where some elves stood, counting gold or placing items on the counters while the elves behind those counters moved to and fro. She then took a left, to a smaller temple (because that was the only thing Djinjer could really call them) and finally, crossed over to land again.

It was amazing to see vibrant, colorful trees and plants that were ranged from different types of blues and purples. Even their green grass and bushes seemed to have a more teal coloring to it.

Djinjer gasped as she turned around and came face to face with a blue, glowing orb. It sped past her, which led her to looking at another odd sort of creature. This…small tree was walking. It even had a face! And then her attention was caught by a low, but very noticeable growl. Several extremely large cats were curled up only feet from her! She wanted to get a better look, she wanted to see them up close, but she refrained. The last thing she needed was to embarrass her people on their first night in their new city.

Djinjer tried her best to stop getting distracted and instead, tried to absorb everything as she passed it. There _were _wooden buildings, which appeared to be where many elves were learning their crafts. And these buildings were open, some of them had two layers and then… Djinjer blinked as she spotted a very tall buildings with many windows. She wondered what it was for, but it wasn't long before her attention was caught by a large, walking tree. It wasn't like the ones she had seen out in Gilneas. This one looked more aged, yet even more beautiful. And then she noticed it was looking at her, too.

He lifted his big, tree arm, and motioned to the right of him. She looked to her left and found what the tree-creature was pointing at. Silver moss hung from this tree and glowing blue water flowed down the sides of it. It was just like the tree in Gilneas, only it looked…alive. Djinjer began walking towards it, noticing that the ground was immediately much softer and even damp.

Around the tree's base, there were shallow pools of shimmering water, which had stepping stones for crossing. Djinjer carefully maneuvered over them and finally made it into the tree's base. There, she found many of her people, worgen and non-worgen alike, sleeping on what looked like roll out sleeping bags. Some people spoke to elves, whom seemed more than friendly enough. Djinjer smiled and quickly placed her hand over her mouth, trying hard not to laugh at Sergeant Cleese and Huntsman Blake trying their best to impress a very pretty elf, whom seemed more amused by their bickering than anything else. A strange, but gorgeous well was behind that elf, as well as a few benches.

Djinjer also spotted the same three elves that had given the worgen their blessings. Small lamps dotted the area, giving off soft light, and then she found what appeared to be a veranda of sorts. There, Djinjer spotted the Mayor, the King and his family, as well as both Darius and Lorna Crowley.

The princess let out a soft yawn, which appeared to have caught the attention of her father. Not a moment after, she and the Queen were given their own night time roll outs by an elf with dark blue hair. Though Zathaniel didn't seem to notice her, Brutus sat beside him, wagging his tail as he stared at her. She smiled at him and then walked over to another entrance to the tree. There, she sighed and stepped out of the Howling Oak. With a sigh, she sat down and leaned against the outside of the tree.

"What now?" she asked out loud. "What do we do now? Everything would seem so much easier if…" she shook her head. She was certain if her eyes weren't so tired, she would have shed a few tears, but her eyes wouldn't let her. Djinjer rubbed at her eyes, but as soon as she dropped her hands, she felt the eyes of another on her.

Djinjer looked to her right and found an elf standing directly across from her. The elf, with silvery-white hair and an owl beside her, was staring at her. Djinjer brushed it off as she closed her eyes. When she opened them, the elf was gone. She imagined her kind were probably very interesting to the elves. Then again…_they_ were _elves_. How could they, as boring Gilneans, be of any interest to the Night Elves?

Djinjer didn't know how she came to fall asleep, after having just woken up. But when she woke up, she found an elf hovering over her. The same dark blue haired elf, with a bluish tint to her skin, was frozen in horror. She had been picking up Djinjer's head to place a pillow under it when Djinjer woke up.

The elf's silver eyes stared just behind her, as if horrified she woke the sleeping Gilnean. As Djinjer began sitting up, the elf quickly back away, staying in a crouched position. They stared at each other for a moment and Djinjer couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous of the creature's beauty. Having dropped the pillow, Djinjer gazed down at it, plucked it up and said, "Thank you," to the elf.

Still seeming horrifically embarrassed, the elf nodded, gave a shy, almost nervous smile, stood up, and hurried away. A screech caught Djinjer's attention, and again, Djinjer found the same elf that had been staring at her. Only this time, the elf was closer; close enough for Djinjer to make out the elf's facial markings. And yet again, Djinjer ignored the elf the best she could and instead, began folding the blanket that was most likely just placed over her. She placed the pillow on top of the small bundle and originally, Djinjer meant to turn back to the elf and maybe introduce herself, but instead, Djinjer became completely captivated by her surroundings again.

In the early morning light, Darnassus seemed to glitter. As beautiful as the city was at night, it was ten times more beautiful in daylight. Even if her stomach growled, Djinjer paid little attention to anything else. It was hard for the reality of the situation to fully sink in. How could this place be home, now? How could this, or any other place, exist outside of Gilneas? It wasn't that long ago that Djinjer thought the world outside of Gilneas wasn't worth knowing, and no other city could be anywhere near as gorgeous as her own.

But now…

Now, everything seemed so inside out. Gilneas was in ruins, left behind for the Forsaken and Orcs to ruin even more. Would she ever return to her home? Would they ever be able to retake their beloved city? Djinjer sighed softly, pulling her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs and frowned.

Her focus was suddenly interrupted as a large, black dog came bounding at her, throwing himself against her and licking her face. "Hey you," Djinjer said, laughing softly as Brutus rolled over in the grass. Djinjer turned her eyes up to Zathaniel, but immediately, Djinjer stopped smiling.

Zathaniel didn't say anything as he walked over to her. He held out his hand to her, which she quickly accepted. He helped her up to her feet and then took a step back from her. "Did you rest well?"

Djinjer shrugged in reply, "Softest grass I've ever slept upon." She smiled again, but when he didn't smile or chuckle, she frowned. Something had to be up for him to look so down.

"Djinjer," he took a step closer, looking into her eyes. "What do you think of this city?"

"Well," Djinjer blushed at how close he stood beside her and naturally took a step back from him. "I can't really say. I mean, I haven't exactly explored it…or met many of its citizens, but it _is_ something out of a fairytale, isn't it?"

This time it was his turn to shrug. How could anyone not be impressed with such beauty? Djinjer shifted uncomfortably, "You've come here to tell me something, haven't you?"

At first, she thought maybe he would bring up what nearly happened after the bombing of the Horde gunship. The muscles in his cheeks quivered for a moment, which Djinjer…found strangely attractive; then finally, he murmured, "For the most part, our people are staying here. In many ways, Darnassus will truly be our people's new home."

"But?" Djinjer asked. There was definitely a "but" in his tone of voice.

"But," he looked away from her, "some of us are leaving."

"And what does that mean, exactly?" Djinjer was beginning to feel frightened. Even her pulse began speeding.

"The King, his family, myself included…the Crowley family, and many others, will be traveling to the distant city of Stormwind. There, we have more connections and even some kin that may be able to help us in our quest to recapture Gilneas."

"When do we leave?" Djinjer asked, wrapping her arms around herself. She knew the answer even if he hadn't already said it.

He paused for a moment, looked at her, and frowned. "_I'm_ leaving with them as soon as the ship arrives, which should be soon. Turns out there is always a ship moving between Darnassus and Stormwind City. The priestess of the Night Elves is sending word to their King to prepare for our arrival."

Djinjer shifted uncomfortably. "You said 'I'm'." Zathaniel only nodded in reply, which meant one thing in Djinjer's mind. Her heart quivered in her chest and tears sprung to her eyes. "_You're leaving me_?" she breathed out, dropping her arms to her sides.

"No, Djinjer," he replied softly. "I'm not leaving you."

"You're _leaving_ to go to some other city and you don't want me there with you!"

"Djinjer!" He grabbed both of her arms and spoke firmly, "Look around you! Do you see _one_ male guard?" When she didn't reply, he shook her, "Do you?" She quickly shook her head, biting her lip to keep from allowing the tears to fall. "This place will be _good_ for _you_. I have family out there that I _must_ find. Hell, even you could have family out there, Djinjer."

"Then that's more reason to come!"

"No, Djinjer." He released her and sighed loudly. "Listen," he took a deep breath and again, tried to speak calmly, "If we were not intent on taking back Gilneas, we would probably stay here. Right now, Djinjer, you need to study more in the ways of a warrior. You need to be in a place where females are strong and look at this place! You're so entranced by it. This place and these elves can help you in so many ways that I cannot."

Djinjer couldn't help but suddenly become very angry with Zathaniel. After all they had gone through, this was what he was telling her? "Are you doing this to me because I didn't kiss you?"

Zathaniel blanched and shook his head. "No. You didn't do anything wrong! This isn't a punishment! If you come with me, you'll always rely on me to be there and save you in bad situations. You're still so young…and you have no proper training at all. Stay here. Get your training…and then send me a letter. I hear their post works by magic."

Djinjer glared at him. "You don't even want me contacting you?" She didn't wait for him to reply, Djinjer shoved him with all of her strength. "Leave, then! I don't need you! I'll be fine on my own!" He stumbled back only a few steps and genuinely seemed shocked by her outburst.

Djinjer let out one sob as she spun around and stormed away from him. She didn't look back. She didn't want to. In many ways, he was right. She had yet to see a male guard and whenever the Night Elves were in Gilneas? All of their soldiers were female. This place and these people could teach Djinjer more than she could ever imagine, and Zathaniel was even more right when he said she had no proper training. But did he really have to leave her? He said he wasn't…but he truly was.

When Djinjer felt she was completely alone, she stood still and raised her hands to her face. She cried into her palms and all at once, Djinjer felt like she couldn't do this anymore. She wasn't strong enough to be on her own. Everything was changing too fast. And the _one_ person she had left in the world…was leaving her. "Stupid," she balled up her fists and kicked a small root that stuck out of the ground, "stupid," she kicked it over and over, "stupid jerk!"

"I don't thinking kicking that defenseless root will make that 'jerk' any less stupid," said a soothing voice.

Djinjer gasped, both horrified and completely embarrassed. She found herself staring at the very same Night Elf that had been watching her from afar. At least, she thought she was watching her. The elf blinked her silvery glowing eyes and hopped down from the tree limb she had been sitting on.

"Sorry," Djinjer murmured, sniffing and wiping her nose on the back of her gloves.

The elf was quiet for a moment, and it seemed she was trying very hard to figure out what to say. Finally, the elf took a breath and said, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"What?"

The elf cleared her throat then murmured, "I cannot imagine being in the same situation as you are. I'm sorry…for what you've gone through."

Djinjer felt entirely confused with this creature. Maybe the elf felt just as awkward as she did? Djinjer shook her head, "It's not your fault."

"No," the elf said as an owl suddenly landed on her shoulder. "But I am sorry that it happened to you and your people."

Djinjer stared at her for a moment then murmured out, "Thanks."

The elf looked her over for a moment, as if studying her and trying to figure out something. "Your chest armor…it's gone."

Djinjer looked down at the raggedy brown shirt she was wearing. She remembered the awful pain of the orc destroying her chain mail shirt. Djinjer sighed and the elf added, "You can stay here as long as you like."

"I thought this…was our new home?" Djinjer blinked at the elf.

The elf's eyes widened only for a second. "I mean _here_," she motioned to the area around them. "I come here often. The city is nice and all, but I like nature. I like _this_."

"Oh…" Djinjer sighed and plopped down onto the soft grass. She sat there for a moment, staring out into the city. Where had Zathaniel gone? Had he already left? From the twinge of pain in her heart, she decided she didn't want to think about it anymore. In fact, she didn't want to think about him anymore.

By the time she looked back at the elf, she was already back on her tree limb. "Djinjer," she said softly.

The elf looked at her, nodded, and murmured, "Valisilwen." Djinjer slowly went over her name in her thoughts, hoping not to forget it. It was quite the mouthful for her Gilnean tongue.

Feeling the need for relaxation, Djinjer slowly took her gloves off and placed them on her lap. She contemplated removing her boots as well, but quickly decided against it, just from the looks of them. Her boots were muddied, bloodied, singed, and had far too many holes and rips in them. "So…" Djinjer decided to focus on the elf, rather than the shape of her armor, or what was left of it. Valisilwen was looking out towards the large tree they were now calling home. "I saw you a few times."

"And I saw you," the elf smirked. Valisilwen sat up straight, stared intently at the tree and then, once more, hopped down from her branch. "And here she comes…" she muttered softly. Djinjer sat more straight, trying her best to figure out what Valisilwen was talking about.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. And there was definitely no one heading this way. Djinjer strained her eyes, hoping to see anything-when her eyes finally landed just to the right of the large tree. A large, black cat was quickly making its way towards Valisilwen. It was no where near as large as the cats she had seen while making her way through the city. As the cat came nearer, it turned out she wasn't black at all, but dark purple…and in fact, she wasn't a cat at all. The "cat" sprung into the air and when it landed, the very same Night Elf with the blue hair stood there, with her arms in the air. "What a day! What a _night_ really! Did you see them, Val, did you?" She pointed at the tree, as if the elf had, in fact, not seen, "They all look so _tired_ and _worn_ out!"

"Val" looked over at Djinjer and the other elf's eyes followed. Just as horrified and embarrassed as before, the elf gasped and stared at her, frozen. Valisilwen laughed at the other elf's expression.

"One thing I'm noticing that's different between those other humans and these," Valisilwen lifted the druid's chin with her finger, shutting the druid's mouth, "is that these don't take offense as easily."

"Or maybe they're just too tired," the other elf blurted out, her eyes back on Val.

Valisilwen grinned and turned her silver eyes back on Djinjer. "That _may_ be the case, dear, but I don't believe you need to remind them."

"Oh," she replied softly. Staring at the two of them made it hard for Djinjer to think of what she should do next. More than anything, she couldn't keep from being curious about them. While the druid was different shades of blue, Val had far more subtle tones. Her skin was a soft lilac and her hair was a shimmering white. Djinjer had never really thought of white having different shades, but it was quite easy to pick out in Val's hair.

Never one to seem rude, Djinjer grabbed her filthy gloves and made her way over to the elves, holding her hand out to the new one. "I'm Djinjer…thanks for the pillow."

Djinjer expected the elf to be as hesitant as Val, but instead, the elf smiled brightly, so much so that her eyes shut. She grabbed Djinjer's hand and shook it fast, "I'm Qiralyn but you can call me Qira!" Then she turned her eyes upon Djinjer's hand. "My, I would have thought you were darker in tone, but look how clean your hand is compared to the rest of you!"

Val's eyes widened for a split second, then chuckled. The reaction seemed to confuse Qiralyn, and so she dropped Djinjer's hand and softly asked, "Is that not something one would say? It is true after all. The contrast is quite amazing."

"While it may be true, Qira, it is not something one says to a newly arrived guest…especially one whom has been through such hardships recently." Val smiled at Qira in a very loving way. She wondered, what with such contrasting colors, could the two be related in some way? Val's seemed almost motherly to this obviously younger elf.

"Oh," Qira chirped out. She smiled at Djinjer and rocked back on the heels of her feet. "We could always bring the women to the bathing pools," she murmured out softly. Seeing that her idea was quite a good idea, Qiralyn suddenly perked up. "We could even see if the tailors will donate their human clothes!"

"That's a wonderful idea…but I believe the men would like to bathe as well," Val replied with a grin.

"Well," Qiralyn smiled, "We _do _have two areas…"

No Gilnean woman felt self conscious nor embarrassed standing there in what the Night Elves called the bathing pools. It was obvious that all of them, Djinjer included, were thankful to finally be able to wash off the muck and grime that had accumulated on them. In fact, Djinjer's hair was so greasy and filthy that she had to cut the piece of fabric covered elastic that held her hair up. After that, her hair sagged, but stayed in its general shape.

No one paid attention to each other. They merely cleaned themselves and to Djinjer's complete surprise, she didn't mind the company that sat next to her pool. Valisilwen kept her back to Djinjer, hoping to give her privacy, while Qiralyn didn't seem to care if Djinjer was wearing clothes or just a tea cozy on her head. The elf seemed completely unaware of shame or the need for privacy, which Djinjer didn't mind. It was refreshing to have someone prattle on and on, keeping her distracted.

Truth be told…

Djinjer was quite certain that these elves would only be a distraction for her. Nothing more, nothing less. She doubted such beautiful and wonderful beings could ever be friends with humans. Not wanting to depress herself any further, Djinjer continued bathing while listening to Qiralyn cover everything from the sorrow she felt for the Gilneans, to the happiness she felt while helping them. She talked about what it was like to be a druid and how she enjoyed her cat form more than she would like to admit to anyone else.

When everyone was bathed, when everyone was completely clean and not a spec of filth lingered, the women were given human clothes that were found at the Trade Auction House and donated by some people whom specialized in Human clothes. Her new friend, far too eager to please her, picked out a lovely white and blue dress, but it was Valisilwen whom came to the rescue. A simple brown shirt and brown pants fit Djinjer fine…the next step was for the women to feast while the men bathed.

It was only then that Djinjer noticed a small group of Gilneans walking into the pink light under a mandrake. Her heart trembled, her stomach tightened, but the tears she thought would spring to her eyes, never came. Instead, Djinjer suddenly felt alone and vulnerable. In that moment, while slowly chewing a slice of peach, Djinjer knew she had to be strong and learn to stand on her own, because she could rely on no one. Everyone would leave her…eventually.


	21. Chapter 21

**_Author's Notes:_** _Well, here's another chapter. Told you guys that vacation would help. I'm struggling with the next chapter, if only because I don't really know where I want to go with it. Blargh! Anyway, I **always** wanted to do this with the storyline, mainly because 1) it makes sense...and you'll know what I'm talking about as you get to it and 2) I love twists! Anyway, hope you all enjoy!  
_

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Djinjer slammed the blade of her sword into the soft ground of Darkshore. Covered in sweat, her fur matted to her body, Djinjer panted heavily as she allowed herself to collapse against a large bolder. Her druid companion, in her dark cat form, panted just as heavily as she rested on her side beneath the nearby tree.

"We should head back to Lor'danel," Djinjer said to the exhausted druid. "We are low on supplies."

"You're right," Qiralyn murmured, "but may we please have a moment of rest?"

Djinjer nodded in reply, closing her eyes as she attempted to slow her breathing. Over a month had passed since the Gilneans had left their home; since she last saw Zathaniel; since she made friends with two Night Elves, her companion being one of them. Djinjer opened her eyes, finding Qiralyn in her elf form. Her clothes were filthy and the elf looked completely exhausted. Her eyes were shut and she, like Djinjer, was trying to catch her breath.

To help outfit the Gilnean soldiers in their respective armor, the citizens of Darnassus teamed up with a race even more fascinating and intriguing than the Night Elves. Djinjer learned that this race, whom were called the Draenei, were still quite "new" to Azeroth. Together, the two races did what they could to help the Gilneans get back on their feet, but it was then-as Djinjer was about to accept her new gear-that her newest friend stepped in.

Valisilwen had a bad habit of suddenly appearing, as if out of thin air. Of course this was quite ridiculous to think, so it was only natural for Djinjer to assume that _she_ was just unobservant. "Those _may_ be nice," Valisilwen murmured, "but _these_ are better."

Djinjer remembered looking back and forth between the gear. The armor was far different than the armor being handed out to the Gilneans. Regardless, Djinjer accepted it and now here she was, fully geared and equipped with a beautiful and sturdy sword.

Djinjer, however, wasn't the only Gilnean to move on with her life. While _many_ of her people stayed behind, many of the worgen set out into the world. Some waited for the next ship to Stormwind City, some joined the Draenei and headed back to Azuremyst Isle. For the most part, however, many of her kind headed to Darkshore. Having informed her new friends of her destination, Djinjer was quite surprised to find herself suddenly teamed up with Qiralyn.

The elf…

Djinjer looked back at her companion whom was now attempting to brush her loose dark blue hair back into her ponytail with only her fingers.

Qiralyn was a soft hearted elf with high hopes and an innocent outlook on life, which meant one real thing: Qiralyn seemed to be easily heart broken. As soon as they arrived at Lor'danel, the two were immediately given a grim task. They were to scour the coast for any survivors from Auberdine, the original Night Elf encampment here in Darkshore.

While many elves went on to set up their new camp called Lor'danel, other elves stayed behind, clinging to the hope that Auberdine could be salvaged. Djinjer and Qiralyn didn't have to go far to see the countless bodies lying dead upon the sandy shore.

At first, an overwhelming emotion washed over Djinjer and once more, she felt like giving up. She had escaped the dangers of Gilneas only to slip into the dangers of the rest of the world. Was there no place in Azeroth left untainted?

The feeling of helplessness quickly vanished as she and Qiralyn began finding survivors. What made Djinjer feel even stronger was the strength that _Qiralyn_ displayed. The elf had immediately become teary eyed when she saw the destruction of Darkshore, but had somehow drew strength from this. In fact, it was Qiralyn that first lead the way, not only along the shore, but into battle as well. As Djinjer watched Qiralyn, she couldn't help but think that this wasn't Qiralyn's first time dealing with death. Qiralyn's face showed such relief each time they found a survivor. Everything from Qiralyn's expressions to the way she healed and helped the survivors showed Djinjer just what an amazing elf Qiralyn was growing into.

With a grunt, Djinjer stood up, shook herself and now stood before Qiralyn in her human form. "Let's go," Djinjer said, holding her hand out to Qiralyn. The elf took it and stood up. "From the sounds of it, the Horde is _not_ happy."

Qira quickly made her way up the bolder Djinjer had been sitting against. "There's a lot of movement," Qira muttered out softly. "You're right, we should go."

Djinjer yanked her sword from the ground and quickly sheathed it. The two of them, though faster in their beast forms, merely jogged in their humanoid forms. From what Val had told Djinjer, right before they set out for Lor'danel, Qira was quite the clumsy elf. But Djinjer had a hard time seeing this.

The Night Elves, clumsy or not, moved with grace that made Djinjer realize how much of a brute she really was. Whether she was running quickly or simply jogging, Qira hardly made a sound. She took long strides and easily hopped over anything in their way. Djinjer, on the other hand, sounded like a herd of wild boar compared to Qiralyn. How many times did she trip over something just because she was watching Qiralyn?

With little incident, the two of them finally made their way back to Lor'danel, where Djinjer fell to her hands and knees, panting heavily. Days ago, Djinjer could make the run with no problem.

"Are you _sure_ you aren't sick?" Qiralyn asked as she crouched down beside Djinjer. "You look more feverish than before."

Djinjer yanked her head away from Qiralyn's cool hand and stood up. "I'm fine," Djinjer replied. And it was true. She felt…sort of fine. Sure, she got tired quickly and she always felt warm, but for the most part, there was no real difference. In fact, Djinjer was certain it was just the change in climate that was affecting her.

Qiralyn stood up, with the most adorable concerned face that she had ever seen, but Qira's attention quickly turned to the inn. "That sounded like Val," she murmured.

Djinjer, while attempting to control her breathing, followed Qira back to the entrance of the inn and sure enough, there was Valisilwen. The white haired elf stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes locked upon another elf.

"I told you to _keep an eye on her_, not send her headfirst into danger!" The tone of voice the male elf spoke with sent shivers down her spine. The well-muscled elf was nearly the same coloring as Qiralyn; but where as Qiralyn's skin was a bit more twilight blue-purple in color, his skin was far more dusty purple. Not to mention, Qiralyn seemed easy to approach. Had Djinjer found this elf in the forest of Gilneas, she would have had no problem approaching her. But the male elf? He held such arrogance and intimidation in his demeanor that Djinjer would have probably ran from him. Valisilwen, however, didn't seem even slightly affected by this much taller, much larger, even slightly scarier elf.

"Treating her like a child and hiding her from the dangers of the world will do _nothing_ to help her, Eglerrion. The cataclysm may have changed the world, but it has not changed the dangers that she will most certainly face as a druid." Though obviously angry, Valisilwen's voice was still calm. In fact, it seemed her tone irritated the male elf even more.

Qiralyn sighed loudly as she walked over to the two elves glaring one another down. If only looks could kill…

"You two are _always_ fighting," she said with an incredibly soft voice. Both of them blinked as they turned towards her, as if just noticing she had arrived. The drooping of Qira's ears seemed to show her disappointment in both of them, which immediately made the two appear quite guilty.

Val flushed, but only for a second, and then quickly snapped out, "What ever happened to that oh-so-important mission you were leaving for?"

He glared back and then grinned, "I've finished it. You honestly don't think it would take an entire month for me to finish something so very simple?"

Whatever that meant, it seemed to irritate Valisilwen more. She huffed and quickly approached Qiralyn, as if it were some sort of race. "I trust your tasks have been going well?" she asked softly, smiling as she eyed the elf in front of her.

"Yep!" Qiralyn chuckled. "Djinjer's an absolutely wonderful companion to have!"

"_Djinjer_?" the male elf cocked an eyebrow as he stared at Qira, then slowly, his eyes met her own.

Djinjer fought back another shiver and shyly looked away. Instantly, her attention snapped back to the elf as Val's owl companion let out a screech. Eglerrion, as Val called him, had Val by the arm and was nearly dragging her from the inn. Val spoke quickly in their native tongue, which gained a few snickers from the occupants of the inn. Qiralyn let out a loud gasp and grabbed her ears, pulling them down. "Why must you fight?"

Djinjer walked up beside Qiralyn. "For some reason," she murmured, "I have a feeling this is about me."

"My big brother…" she sighed. "If he had it his way, I would be locked away in a tower."

Djinjer laughed, but the look Qira gave her made her stop. She sighed softly and turned her attention back to the elves, whom were arguing more heatedly just outside of the inn. Val's fists shook for a second and then she jabbed her finger at Eglerrion. Djinjer gasped as the owl suddenly lunged at Eglerrion and began clawing at him. He let out a howl of his own as he attempted to protect himself from the owl.

"Vaaaal!" Qiralyn whined out, and immediately, the assault stopped. Valisilwen stormed into the inn and frowned.

"I apologize." She said quickly to Qiralyn, whom was pouting-her bottom lip trembling.

Eglerrion snorted as he took his position next to Qiralyn, then looked at her. His hair was slightly messed, and there were fresh scratches along his arms, and even a few on his face. His eyes remained on her as Qiralyn reached out to him, her hand glowing green for only a moment. The wounds on his body quickly healed and vanished, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Thank you," he said to his sister, planting a kiss upon her forehead. He then turned his attention back to Djinjer and took four very intimidating steps towards her. As he stood in front of her, Djinjer couldn't help but take a deep breath in. His scent intoxicated her and for a second there, she thought she could even _taste_ him. She blinked up at him, as he was much taller than her.

"My name is Eglerrion, elder brother of Qiralyn. If any harm should come to her, worgen-"

"_Eglerrion!_" Qiralyn barked out, seeming insulted, embarrassed and even…angry?

Djinjer smiled and held her hand out to him, "I assure you, no harm will come to your sister as long as I'm there to protect her. The name, by the way, is Djinjer."

She didn't expect him to reach out and grab her hand, but when he did, Djinjer bit her lip. It was the only thing she could do to stop it from trembling. She felt so dizzy, just from touching him, and her mind felt so…foggy. But his scent? His scent made her mouth water. In fact, she was taking _much_ deeper breaths than she needed, just to get a little more of that scent.

"See?" Qiralyn wrapped her arms around her brother's. "There's nothing to worry about."

Or was there? Djinjer's heart started racing as a horrific realization washed over her. More than any woman she had ever seen, Djinjer was very attracted to this _male_ elf. Djinjer had never been attracted to any male as long as she could remember. In fact, her very first crush was on the Mayor when she was thirteen, so _why_ did she find this male attractive? As if to tease her, an image of her straddling the elf's lap while ripping the his shirt off flashed through her mind, sending her into a blushing fit.

Djinjer quickly tore her eyes from the elf and stormed away as sheer panic began seeping in. Since her reawakening, Djinjer couldn't think of a single female that she found herself attracted to. Sure, there were the elves-but she found them beautiful in a majestic way, not attractive! And the Night Elves? She wasn't interested in them either! There was absolutely nothing wrong with Valisilwen or Qiralyn! Both were gorgeous beyond belief! In fact, Djinjer was certain before her reawakening, she would have been head over heels for Valisilwen! So _what was wrong_?

Djinjer had no idea how long she sat near the shore of Lor'danel, breathing deeply-her face burning with frustration, shame, and excitement.

"Don't worry," Valisilwen said from beside her. "I feel like running each time I see Eglerrion, too. Unfortunately, if you're in Qiralyn's life, you're somewhat in his life as well. I suppose that's natural, what with him being such an overprotective brother."

Djinjer looked up at Valisilwen. She was crouched down, a position she often saw Val in. The elf's left brow shot up as she reached out and grabbed Djinjer's face. "Your entire face is flushed."

"I'm not sick," Djinjer snarled, smacking Valisilwen's hand from her face. She didn't _mean_ to be so touchy about this, but somehow, some part of her couldn't help it. Djinjer sighed heavily. "I don't know what's going on, but I know I'm not sick."

"No, you're definitely not." Val said with such certainty, that all irritation Djinjer felt towards her suddenly vanished. "I'm certain Qiralyn is the one assuming you're sick."

"Yes," Djinjer smiled apologetically. Her eyes suddenly bugged as Val leaned forward, inhaling deeply near her neck. "Um…"

Val leaned back and continued staring at her. "Your scent is _much _stronger. I thought I noticed it when you and Qiralyn were standing outside of the inn. Tell me, have you ever felt like this before?"

Djinjer looked out into the dark waters. Had she ever felt like this? Another image flashed through her mind, but this time…it wasn't so much a fantasy as it was a memory. She had felt like this-her mind and judgment clouded-when she was _caught_ as a worgen. And honestly, she may have gone through it again as far as she knew. With the excitement and fear of what was happening in Gilneas, she was too distracted to listen to her body.

She turned her eyes back to Val and finally answered with, "Once or twice."

Val blinked, then stood up with her eyes closed. "This was _after_ you became a worgen, correct?"

"Yeah," Djinjer stood up as well. "Why?"

Val flicked her nose with her thumb, then murmured out, "You seemed frightened of Eglerrion. Even he, with such a thick skull, noticed that. Might I know why?"

Djinjer laughed softly and scratched the back of her head. "Honestly…I…" she cleared her throat, then sighed loudly. "I…" Why was she having such a hard time explaining?

"You…?" Val grinned. "Were you not aware we had male elves?"

"No, no. I knew that! I just…didn't think they were so unbelievably gorgeous." Her already warm face felt even hotter.

"That's a common response from other races, especially from human females. Their males tend to feel the same about our females as well." Val slowly turned and began walking away from the shore. Djinjer followed her. "Your response is common. You shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"But it's not common, at least, not for me." Djinjer groaned out. "To be _completely honest_, I would have sided with the men on this one."

Seeing Val freeze in mid step also made Djinjer stop in her tracks. Slowly, Valisilwen turned around, her expression seeming kind. "I see. So you like your females and our men?"

Djinjer wanted to crawl under a rock, but as embarrassed as she was, Valisilwen was her friend and she could be honest with her, right? Right. Djinjer cleared her throat and shook her head. "I once loved a woman." Just the memory of Kimberly hurt. "I always…I mean, ever since I was a young girl, I found women to be the type of person _I_ loved. I simply didn't care for men. And now…" She sighed loudly. "I don't know what's going on."

Val instinctively reached out her hand, just as her owl swooped down, carefully landing on her gloved wrist. "What have you got there, Jereth?" The owl hooted happily, showing off the small critter in his beak. "You go and enjoy that, alright?" Another soft hoot escaped that as he flew into the nearby tree, disappearing from view. Val sat against the very same tree, her eyes shut.

Djinjer sat in front of her, keeping her eyes locked on Val. After a short moment, her silver eyes opened. "I believe I know what's going on, Djinjer." Djinjer's brows arched up and with a small smile, Val began explaining. "You're more worgen than human. That is undeniable, no matter how many worgen wish to stay in their human forms and do everything to escape their now true forms. I'm quite certain that all female worgen, like all other female beasts, go through a heat. And please, keep in mind that I mean no offense." Djinjer, however, was far too entranced by this possible explanation to be insulted by being called a beast.

Val continued when Djinjer didn't reply. "If you ignore lust, mating is truly about procreating…and that takes a male and female. Despite having always been attracted to the same sex when you were human, you're now a creature that relies more on instinct. It's possible that when you're in heat, you instinctively crave the attention of males. It's quite possible you've already mated with male worgen when you were wild."

Val blinked at her, obviously waiting for her reply. But Djinjer felt frozen. She replayed the entire conversation through her head and when the last sentence ran through her thoughts, Djinjer stood up quickly. "_WHAT DO YOU MEAN I COULD HAVE ALREADY MATED_?"

Val's eyes widened at Djinjer's outburst and quickly, grabbed her wrist, forcing her to sit again. "As far as hunters go, I am what's called a 'Beast Master'. In that branch, we study beasts. We learn everything there is about them. I may not be correct, Djinjer, but I'm fairly certain this is _exactly_ what's going on."

Djinjer sat down and bit her lip. If this was correct, which she was certain it was, then what would she do about it? What _could_ she do about it? Slowly, she looked up at Val and asked her the same thing she was asking herself, "What do I do now?"

"Well," Valisilwen's glowing silver eyes became a bit sad. "You're now far more experienced than when you first arrived in Darnassus. Our warriors have taught you well." And that they did. The female warrior trainers always instructed her in a way that seemed easy to understand and far more graceful than anything else she was taught. She learned techniques and even battle stances. "I think it's time for Qiralyn to be on her own. She has _always_ relied on someone being there for her. And you? How will you ever grow if you never face what troubles you? You can't always stay distracted."

Djinjer blinked at the elf, whom smiled at her. "Besides…you, too, need to experience the world without anyone holding your hand. Do you understand?"

Djinjer nodded. Valisilwen was right. Since her reawakening, she _always_ had someone. Even before then…she had her parents…Kim…Elijah, whom she hadn't seen in a while. She had Zathaniel…. Djinjer sighed heavily. "What should I do?"

"Take the boat to Stormwind, Djinjer. Seek out your trainer and he or she will point you in the right direction. And perhaps…you should look for that 'jerk' of yours." Djinjer's eyes widened. Val laughed softly, then added, "He may be able to help you in more ways than one. And Djinjer?"

"Hm?"

Val reached out and placed a hand on Djinjer's shoulder. "Don't view this as a bad thing. I know it must be very confusing, but it's just a part of growing into what you truly are. You should never be ashamed of that."

Djinjer frowned…and before she knew it, she was standing on a very lavish ship, waving at her two friends.

"Write to us!" Qiralyn shouted. "And remember to always watch your tail!"

"I don't have a tail!" Djinjer shouted back as the ship began moving. Even from where she stood, she could see both Qiralyn and Valisilwen laughing. It made her chuckle as well. Her conversation with Valisilwen took place only two days ago. And in the days that passed, Djinjer gathered up everything she needed, took one final instruction on blacksmithing and was now on her way to Stormwind. As Rut'theran Village disappeared from view, Djinjer made her way into the belly of the ship, where she found hammocks, tables, and chair.

Djinjer slipped into a nearby hammock and held her belongings close to her. What was Stormwind like? And what would Zathaniel say if she found him? He had wrote to her twice…and neither times had Djinjer read the letters. Djinjer reached into her backpack and shuffled around for the scrolls. She pulled one out, which was dated too close and again, searched for another scroll. She pulled that one out and sure enough, it was the first one. Turning onto her back, Djinjer unwrapped the magical scroll and began reading.

_My Dearest Djinjer,_

_Firstly, I would like to say that I hope all is well with you. I cannot erase the image of your grief stricken face from my memory. I hated leaving you and regretted it the moment I stepped foot onto that ship. But alas, it was too late for me to change my mind. Stormwind City is far different from home, but also feels more like home than Darnassus. So far, every day that I have woken and stepped outside of the castle, I have come across a race we are not familiar with. Dwarves, Gnomes, our elven companions, these strange creatures called Draenei and of course, more Humans. Their accents make me chuckle._

There almost seemed to be a pause between the paragraphs. She could see ink splotches, as if he held his pen over the scroll and yet, didn't know what to write. The next paragraph was written almost different. His penmanship was messier and held sadness.

_Djinjer…I hope you can forgive me for having left you in Darnassus. I know now I should have taken you with me. Perhaps I shall return to Darnassus and find you there? Or maybe you've gone out to travel… If I don't receive a reply, I would _like_ to think you're busy with tasks, either in Teldrassil or somewhere else in the world. I hope you're safe…_

_Most Sincerely,_

_Zathaniel W. Gilneau_

Djinjer sighed and sat up, reading the letter over again quickly. He would have come back for her if she had just…_tried_ to contact him. Djinjer frowned and with an upset stomach, reached for the second scroll. Immediately, she read through it and noticed a huge difference in his writing.

_Djinjer,_

_I haven't gotten a reply from you yet and as you're the only person I can contact through this magical means of mail, I don't know if you even know I've written to you. If you have gotten my previous letter and have not replied, I'll know you're still angry with me. I can't blame you._

_I'm writing now to let you know that instead of joining forces with Crowley, his daughter, and his men in the recapturing of Gilneas, I am instead looking for my relatives. I have learned that while the so called 'House of Gilneau' was a strong family outside of Gilneas, the most important member of our bloodline was, indeed, my father. In fact, rumor has it that Gilneas was named after my grandfather. But enough with uncertain rumors…_

_I was told I may be able to find my relatives, primarily my blood-related Uncle and cousins, in a place called Menethil Harbor. I am not certain when I shall leave to make the journey to the Wetlands, but I must go to them. Why haven't you replied? I can't stand not knowing how you are…_

_Mostly Sincerely,_

_Zathaniel W. Gilneau_

Djinjer frowned and wondered…would he still be in Stormwind? The letter was dated three weeks ago. Djinjer frowned and shoved the two scrolls into her backpack. She had made a mistake not reading these sooner…and not replying. She knew that as soon as she stepped foot into Stormwind City, she would search every inch, every nook and cranny, for Zathaniel and she knew she was _bound_ to find someone whom would know the way to the Wetlands. She had to find him… She had to find someone whom could help her. The world was far larger than Gilneas and she always felt lost.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:** _First of all, I would like to say that if you want to learn more about the characters or the fic in general, you can do so by visiting my profile and clicking the link to the Djinjer Facebook. If you can't find the link, simply go to Facebook and search for Djinjer AWorgens Tale (just like that). AS FOR THE FIC! I decided to show you what happened after Zathaniel left Djinjer in Darnassus. This chapter was quite hard to write, mainly because I didn't really know where to go with it and what to do. I'm glad I checked out Menethil Harbor in game, though! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!_**  
**

There was nothing more soothing than being on a ship. The way the ship swayed back and forth was enough to put anyone to sleep. Not to mention, the relaxing sounds of the water sloshing up against the ship, the cool breeze that carried the softest whiff of the salt water…it was all more than serene.

What was even more relaxing, however, was knowing they were going to a Kingdom much like their own. They would see their own kind and possibly even run into relatives. They would most likely have help from this city in taking back what was rightfully theirs.

And yet…

He didn't feel excited, like he should have.

He didn't feel relieved, like he should have.

Instead, Zathaniel couldn't help but feel guilty. He had left behind the only person that he knew he could rely on. Djinjer may have not been the best warrior, but exhausted or not, Djinjer was _always_ beside him. Zathaniel sighed as he stared out into the horizon.

"You're worried about her, aren't you?"

"How can you tell?" he replied, keeping his eyes on the gorgeous sunset.

"…you are my nephew, after all." Zathaniel turned his eyes upon his aunt, whom looked older and more tired than ever. Sadness filled her eyes, as did tears, and yet, she didn't allow them to fall. Instead, she took a deep breath and sighed softly, looking out at the sunset. "Liam used to make that face when he was thinking about something important."

Even more guilt washed over him as she quickly wiped away the tears that began to slip down her cheeks. "He was so much like his father, in not just looks, but behavior. Genn may sometimes come off cold and distant, but he is always stubborn and determined. Liam was just like that; so stubborn….so determined. And yet," she smiled at Zathaniel as she, too, leaned against the ship's railing, "there were times that I saw the two of you…and you were like _my_ family. I could see my father in both of you. And you two were just as rascally as your mother and I were."

She sighed again. "_Everyone_ has lost _someone_ in this catastrophe, Zathaniel. And yes, you _were_ a fool to cast aside that girl."

"There's more to it than that," Zathaniel murmured. But how could he tell his aunt that Djinjer didn't long to be with him in the way that he desired to be with her? Djinjer could never accept his love for her.

As his aunt placed her hand on his shoulder, Zathaniel looked back at her. In this light, she looked a lot like his mother. "If it is meant to be, the two of you will find your way back to each other. There is hope for _everything_, Zathaniel." She patted his shoulder then murmured, "Don't stay up too late," which made him chuckle.

It seemed, or at least it felt like she was pulling him under her wing. She had lost her son and he had lost his parents…. Of course she would try to mend the heartache of losing her son and sister with caring extra for her nephew.

Zathaniel let out his own sigh, stood, stretched, and slowly made his way to join the other sleeping Gilneans.

Approaching Stormwind City sent shivers up everyone's spine. Not because it was grand, beautiful, or even intimidating, but because the scent of burning wood and hot stone filled their nostrils. There was a large amount of damage to the side of the walls and it seemed that some of the rocks refused to extinguish. Even as they drew closer to the docks, everyone could see people, guards, and foreigners alike struggling to help fix the city or even extinguish molten rock. Whatever had happened to the city was definitely not good…and they were definitely not expecting visitors. Or were they?

Even if he had little idea of Stormwind City, he knew that the heavily armored man wearing a scowl upon his face was King Wrynn of Stormwind. Being of noble blood, Zathaniel was taught about all of the human kingdoms, their leaders, and their history. But having been shut away from the rest of the world for so very long, it was apparent that Gilneas was now slacking on information.

Beside the king stood a teenage blond boy; the scowl missing from his face. He appeared softer, maybe even more kind. And lining the dock that the two stood upon were many heavily armored soldiers; a sword at their hip, a shield on their back, but all of them held their kingdom's flags.

"Stay in your human forms as long as possible," their King demanded. "And _stay_ together. Until we know we are welcomed here, I do not want any of you running wild through this city. Especially…with whatever is happening."

Finally the ship came to a stop, which left his uncle and King Wrynn staring at one another. They didn't say anything. They didn't bow. They merely stared at one another. Finally, the King of Stormwind grinned and murmured out, "You've gotten old."

Before Zathaniel knew it, he sat at a table with the Greymane and Wrynn families, as well as a few other unknown individuals. Guards surrounded this entire room, and now that it was dark out, Zathaniel could no longer hear the sounds of loud, outside conversations mixing together, nor could he hear the sounds of buildings being repaired. Stormwind City was at rest.

Everyone at the table did their best to ignore the hushed conversation that was taking place at the very end of the table. Other than the soft murmuring from the Kings, all that could be heard was the soft clings of their silver hitting their plates.

Zathaniel slowly looked up, only to find the young prince staring intently at him. Zathaniel stared back, hoping to make his stare far more intimidating. He was instantly pleased as the young blond boy looked over to Tess, then Queen Mia, whom smiled at him. "Is there something you'd like to ask?" his aunt asked softly.

The prince smiled back and cleared his throat, casting a nervous glance to his father. "I was just wondering…are _all_ of you worgen?"

"No, dear, we are not." Queen Mia replied, then turned her attention back to her dinner.

The prince turned back to Tess, then to him. "It's nice to meet another prince, Liam."

Silver clanged against a plate and instantly, the kings became silent. It felt as though the boy had plunged a stake through his heart. Not understanding what he said wrong, the boy looked over to his father. "You should be eating dinner, Anduin…not asking questions and making wrong assumptions."

"It's alright, Varian." King Genn stood up and cleared his own throat. "My son…was killed by the Banshee Queen. That…" he nodded in Zathaniel's direction, "is my nephew by wife's family: _Count_ Zathaniel Gilneau; the last surviving Gilneau of Gilneas." How he hated that title that rightfully belonged to his father and his father only.

"Count Gilneau?" King Varian chuckled. "Anduin, say hello to your distant cousin." Zathaniel couldn't help but look at the king, whom leaned back in his chair and grinned at him.

"Guess that explains why he resembles you, father." The boy murmured.

"That's true, isn't it?" his uncle slowly sat back down. "I completely forgot that his grandfather is your uncle."

"But shouldn't he be older?" Tess whispered to her mother, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Yes," Varian replied with another chuckle. "My mother and father were much older parents, much like Genn here is old enough to be _your _grandfather." Tess blushed and looked down at her plate. "Perhaps you will be pleased to know, Genn," but his eyes stayed on Zathaniel, "we have _another_ 'Count' Gilneau here in the Eastern Kingdoms."

"I assume you mean Demetri is still alive and well?"

"Judging from that tone, you well remember who I speak of. Not to mention, that clears up if _his_ parents are still alive." When his uncle didn't say anything, Varian continued. "Demetri, being a general in my father's army, was sent to the Wetlands long ago-to aid Captain Stoutfist. He's made it his home and returns to Stormwind occasionally. I've heard from him just recently, in fact. It seems Menethil Harbor has taken a lot of damage from flooding. In fact, Captain Stoutfist has just requested help for taking back Menethil Keep. It seems they were attacked just after the flood hit. They had no way of defending themselves."

"Perhaps you should look into that, Zathaniel." Zathaniel broke eye contact with his so called cousin and instead, looked at his uncle, whom had a very firm gaze. He knew that gaze well. Any time he insisted Liam do anything, he had that very same look on his face.

"Perhaps," Zathaniel replied, which seemed enough of an answer for his uncle.

"I expect that your worgen citizens and soldiers will do their best to stay in line," Varian's eyes hadn't left Zathaniel, which was making Zathaniel increasingly irritated.

"Of course. The Night Elves have been wonderful in helping us control our inner beast." Genn sounded as though he was becoming irritated now.

"So you're a worgen?" the prince asked. At least the boy showed no fear, and instead, showed curiosity.

"Yes," Genn answered. "So is Zathaniel."

Anduin's head snapped around, staring at Zathaniel. He suddenly seemed to realize that he was irritating a worgen. Fear flickered in his eyes, but he nodded and said, "I'm sorry." Perhaps this teenager was not as naive as he believed him to be.

"Round up your soldiers in the morning, Genn. We will see what they are capable of."

Morning came too soon. Zathaniel had little sleep in the new and very lavish chambers he was given. But could he ever truly rest again? He had grown accustomed to sleeping in short intervals since the killings started in Gilneas City. But now, he stood beside his uncle, watching many of their trained soldiers doing their best to impress the King, his son, and the trainers of Stormwind.

For hours, each Gilnean soldier interested in setting out into Azeroth transformed into their worgen form and began attacking the targeted training dummy. And each time they transformed, spectators were impressed. The trainers, however, were not at all impressed with the apparent lack of skill many of their so called soldiers had. He knew the reason behind it. They wanted to figure out where these soldiers could be sent; where they could actually do some help. Zathaniel, on the other hand, knew that their soldiers were no where near experienced enough to make any real impressions and chances are, they wouldn't be sent far from Stormwind.

He kept his attention on their worgen soldiers and couldn't help but realize he recognized _none _of them. Except for one. An eager hunter approached the target; his light brown mastiff sitting beside him faithfully. He remembered this hunter. The memory flashed through his thoughts. He had been the hunter that nearly got Djinjer killed. The trainers must have appreciated his skill. They didn't ask him as many questions, nor did they tell him to perform anything in specific. A sense of pride filled him, if only because he had been in charge of these young hunters. He didn't have much time in properly training them.

The hunter joined the "finished" line and quickly, the trainers spoke for a moment, then scribbled on some paper, and handed it to a guard. The guard walked over to the hunter, handed him the paper, and then joined the trainers again-as he had for all of the soldiers whom were considered qualified. One mage was still on her worgen knees, sobbing softly. When she was told to attack, the mage could do very little. Perhaps she was weakened, but so far, she was the only mage that couldn't produce a fireball, nor a frostbolt. Very few of their soldiers were sent back to the "citizen" group.

Instead of calling up the next so called soldier, King Varian stepped out and approached, of all people, Zathaniel. "Show us what you're made of, Little Gilneau." If Varian wasn't a King…Zathaniel would have decked him, easily.

Zathaniel snorted and stepped out from their much smaller crowd. He approached the red line, where ranged stood at. Brutus whined softly, but sat beside him. He knew his companion felt his anger. Like all other hunters, four weapons were held out to him: a crossbow, a bow, a pistol, and a rifle. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to appear in his _true_ form.

But as Zathaniel took that deep breath, he smelled something that he hadn't before. It was a soft scent, one that he hadn't noticed as a human. With his eyes mostly shut, he looked out of the corner of his eye and caught a glimpse of where the scent came from. He turned his attention back on the target and opened his eyes as he grabbed the pistol, which had yet to be chosen by any of their hunters. He switched the gun from his right hand to his left; something earned him murmurs from the crowd. Hunters rarely took aim with the wrong hand. He aimed at the training dummy and just a second before the trainer shouted, "Pull!" he quickly swung his arm to the left and fired.

"What is he doing?" someone shouted. A few others, probably the trainers, laughed.

Everyone seemed to be confused, except for the King of Stormwind.

And then all at once, everyone fell silent. No doubt, they were seeing what Zathaniel had fired at. Crouched against the nearby stone wall, was an elf. Her eyes were wide and blood poured down her long ear. Zathaniel had shot the very tip of the rogue's ear, which is exactly where he wanted to hit. Anything to scare the elf and anything to make everyone realize, he was no fool.

The spectators fell silent as the King approached the elf and held his hand out to her. She took his hand and stood up, touching the blood that streamed down her ear. "No one has managed to sneak in an attack on Valeera like that in years. Wulf…take Gilneau to pick up some better gear. He's going to the Wetlands."

Zathaniel didn't like the looks of this quiet, dark, cold place. "When you're on the tram," the man named Wulf said, "try and keep your balance, and for the love of light, do _not_ try and get off while it's moving. Those gnomes may be small buggers, but they're smarter than we'll give credit for."

Wulf rolled up a map and then shoved it at Zathaniel. "_Never_ lose this map. It's enchanted to show you where you stand, wherever you are in the world." Zathaniel raised a brow, which earned him an, "Open it up and have a look." Zathaniel did just as he said, only to find himself thoroughly impressed with the detailed map. A small marker showed where he stood on the platform. "You'll want to head to the South Gate…stay on the main road to the East, then south-east to the gate. You can't miss it. After a short run around, you'll be in Loch Modan. Follow the road north and you'll come across Thelsamar. They'll lead you the rest of the way. Got it?"

"Yes," Zathaniel said. "Would you mind," Zathaniel handed out a letter to Wulf. "I have all of the information on the outside of the scroll. I didn't have time to mail it this morning."

The commander chuckled and accepted the letter, "I'll mail it for you. Here it comes!"

Zathaniel gasped and stepped back as a large, speeding contraption came to a halt just in front of him.

The man laughed and clapped a hand on Zathaniel's shoulder. "Just step on before it speeds off. Can't tell you how many people end up with broken legs when they hesitate." Zathaniel quickly grabbed up Brutus and stepped onto the odd contraption. "Hold on." Commander Wulf was pointing up, so Zathaniel looked up at the handle bars. He shoved the map between Brutus and himself, then grabbed on for dear life. Not a second later, the tram jerked forward and loudly, he shouted from surprise.

He knew Wulf had laughed, but already, the man had been left so far behind him. The tram moved quickly, and though his stomach churned, he quickly became used to the tram. He carefully let go of the handle bar, then carefully allowed Brutus down…and then he grabbed his map. Sure enough, it showed a tunnel, and it showed him speeding through it.

Zathaniel carefully placed the map in his backpack and sighed. The tram, he was told, was taking him to the Dwarf capital, which was "easier than snot" to navigate. He took a deep breath, hoping to calm his stomach, when suddenly, he was bathed in blue light. Zathaniel looked up, his eyes widening. He was quickly passing through a tunnel that was open to see the ocean above him. But just as soon as he saw it, it had disappeared and once more, he was left in darkness.

Then all at once, he came to a stop and though he lost his balance, he quickly recovered and made his way to the exit. Zathaniel couldn't help but feel increasingly lonesome as he walked through the quiet gateway into the Dwarven Capital. Immediately, however, he was met with gnomes, whom didn't pay him any attention. Zathaniel pulled out his map and looked around. He saw "The Great Forge" and saw the little blip over at "Tinker Town." Carefully, he moved left and saw that the blip moved as well. Yes, he thought, that was definitely where he stood.

It didn't take him long to figure out he needed to walk through the Military District to get to The Commons, which was across from the Gates of Ironforge. So he did just that. Zathaniel was completely amazed to see all of the Dwarves. Everyone here was small, even their homes. There were a few humans that he passed, but none seemed interested in him. Zathaniel looked up at the walls of Ironforge. There were many tunnels and walk paths that ran up along the walls for the Dwarves to get to their homes. Small, tiny little dwarf children were going up and down these steeps stairs that would have been fatal to anyone larger than a dwarf. He noticed a few gnomes lived in these houses, too.

But then his attention was caught by the large birds flying overhead. These birds had half of the body of what appeared to be a lion. Dwarven guards steered them, and he couldn't help but stare in amazement. "Watch it," said a dwarf lady, pulling a cart behind her.

Zathaniel moved aside, but continued walking. Finally, he made it to what he assumed was the business district of The Commons. There were many dwarves. Some were obvious commoners, others appeared to be guards, some looked to be adventurers. There were other races, but they were few in numbers. Zathaniel looked across from the busy market and found exactly where he wanted to be: The Gates of Ironforge.

"It'll be cold," Wulf had told him. "Those leathers are good, but not good enough to protect you. Maybe you should visit the local shops before you leave?" As he got increasingly closer to the doorway, he was beginning to regret not listening to the man. He could feel the chilling breeze of the air and as a few guards walked in, they brushed the snow off of themselves.

Zathaniel sighed. He would have to do it out here, or chance getting frozen to the bone. Zathaniel took a few steps to the side of the bridge and looked around. Everyone was too busy to notice he existed…so chances are, they wouldn't notice if he turned into a worgen, right? He was probably wrong.

Brutus snorted at him. "How awful would it be if I were killed right here, just for transforming? What a way to go." He sighed. "Right. Here goes nothing."

Zathaniel gave one more nervous glance around, then allowed himself to transform. It was more painful than he remembered, and he couldn't help but let out a howl. Zathaniel's heart started to pound as Ironforge had become silent. He opened his eyes and looked around. Weapons were drawn, but no one was attacking. Mothers held their children close and adventurers were prepared to protect the innocent. The only ones whom didn't seem _as_ alarmed, were the guards.

The nearest guard glared at him…and Zathaniel did nothing but turn away and walk through the gates. He was thankful for his thick fur, for Dun Morogh was covered in sheets of snow. As he dropped to all fours and sped down the road, he couldn't help but notice the guards staring at him, or the fact that there were shadows following him above. When he reached the bottom of the road, he looked at his map, quickly got his bearings, and moved on. The best way to deal with their curiosity, was to ignore them and focus purely on getting to Loch Modan.

Loch Modan was entirely refreshing to Zathaniel. While it was still cool, it wasn't anywhere near as cold as Dun Morogh. But even as he enjoyed the beauty of Loch Modan, Zathaniel couldn't help but notice the large patch of mud in the distance. It appeared to be a lake that had somehow drained out. He turned his attention back to the main road, got some stares and shouts from Dwarves whom were either walking or riding upon a ram. And then, then he finally came across Thelsamar.

It was a small town made up of many small stone buildings. He wondered if he would even be able to fit into them. Out front of the town, however, Zathaniel saw a small graveyard and then turned his eyes upon two gryphons, whom sat behind their Dwarven master. They eyed him suspiciously, which made Zathaniel feel uncomfortable. He wondered if they would attempt to peck his eyes out if he approached their fumbling master.

The dark haired dwarf pulled out a small slip of paper from his pocket and cleared his throat. He mumbled something as he lift his small glasses, then looked out at Zathaniel. "Aren't a wild beast, are ya? Course I never did see a beast wearin' human clothes." He gulped.

Zathaniel stood up and walked over to him. "You have been told of my arrival?"

The dwarf nodded and wiped his forehead. "Aye. Wulf sent word of ya. Wants me to point ya in the right direction." When Zathaniel said nothing. The dwarf cleared his throat again and said, "Map, please!"

Zathaniel handed the dwarf his map, whom took out a small stamp. When the dwarf stamped the map, a faint blue hue engulfed it only for a second. He handed the map back to Zathaniel and quickly explained. "Now, you'll be able to fly back to Ironforge or Stormwind any time you want. Now," the dwarf spat something dark on the ground and walked out to the road. "Follow the road, just like ya did to get here. Ya'll see the station. Pass that and go through the tunnel. Follow it around through some more tunnels and eventually, ya'll be in the Wetlands. There's a few new camps along the way…but any time ya come 'cross a fork, stay LEFT." The dwarf threw out his left hand, as if to truly emphasize on staying left. He fought hard not to grin.

"Any questions?"

"No, thank you." He threw himself to all fours again and quickly ran off, not wanting to gain anymore attention. He knew he was bound to. One thing that was making him even more uncomfortable was how quickly word was spreading about his kind, his people.

Zathaniel was quickly out of Loch Modan and making his way through the many tunnels, just as the dwarf told him he'd pass through. Upon the last, two dwarves called out for his help, only to yelp and run in fear from him. Entering Wetlands, he assumed it would be warm and muggy. Instead, he found it to be a cold, fog-covered swamp.

The first camp that he passed actually had its guards shoot at him. The second was a Night Elf encampment, where he actually stopped, had his map stamped, and grabbed a bite to eat. He intended to rest only for a moment, but with night quickly approaching, Zathaniel purchased a bed for the night at the Inn and quickly fell asleep. When morning came, he had something to eat and once more, quickly set out.

He passed another small camp, one which he wasn't told about, and found that they were more interested in him than he was with them. At the moment, all he could think about was finding his relatives. He could see Menethil Harbor in the distance and all he wanted to do was run faster.

His anxiety tripled, but so did his excitement. But as soon as he approached the bridge, Zathaniel stopped in his tracks. He stood on hind legs and slowly walked forward. Menethil Harbor…appeared as though it somehow shifted where it sat. Part of the bridge was under water and from where he stood, he could see water had made its way into the small town.

"Dear worgen," a Night Elf male spoke, "you may wish to approach in your human form."

Zathaniel nodded, gave himself a hard shake, and sighed softly. "What happened here?" he asked the elf, whom frowned.

"During the Shattering, the earth shifted and Menethil Harbor began to sink. Most of the Harbor has been lost, but I dare say, the humans and dwarves are quickly adapting."

"Still," said another elf, "they are more exposed to danger than they ever were. Just look around you," Zathaniel did just that, his stomach churning and tying itself into knots, "sharks have flooded their waters. Murlocs, Gnolls, Dark Iron Dwarves…" the other elf sighed. "They will need to move their beloved harbor if they ever expect to recover from this."

"Thank you, the both of you," Zathaniel didn't want to hear anymore. Was there no place in this world left undamaged, untainted by this Shattering? "Come, Brutus." Brutus leapt into his master's arms and carefully, Zathaniel crossed the deep water into Menethil Harbor, where-thanks to Brutus barking as loud as possible-he was immediately noticed.

Before him stood what appeared to be the main building of Menethil Harbor and in front of it stood three individuals: two dwarves and a human male. They all stared at him, wondering what he could want. Remembering he had a scroll, stating what he was there for, Zathaniel quickly grabbed the scroll and approached whom he could only assume was Captain Stoutfist.

No one said anything as the Dwarf read over the scroll. Zathaniel looked over at the human, looking for any sign of resemblance. There was none.

"There's no one else with you?" the dwarf asked, his eyes wide. "You're the only one here to help?"

"Yes," Zathaniel replied. "I was the only one sent."

The dwarf blinked at him, then held his side as he chuckled. "Our town's under the blasted ocean, our keep's full of Dark iron traitors, and I'm laid up with such a wound I can't do a single thing about any of it. So welcome to Menethil Harbor!"

"Thank you, sir," Zathaniel replied.

"I'd recognize that accent anywhere," said a deep, older voice. "Left behind long ago myself." When Zathaniel turned around, his heart felt as though it had frozen over. Trudging through the water was none other than his father. But of course it wasn't his father. This man was alive.

"Look like he's seen a ghost," the other dwarf bellowed out.

Behind the man stood another, one approximately around his own age. He didn't have to be told. He knew that these men were his relatives. The man approached him and held his hand out, "Count Demetri Gilneau," Zathaniel shook his uncle's hand. He had known that his father had a brother, but not a _twin_ brother. "And this is my son, Thorne Gilneau." Again, he shook hands, this time with his cousin.

When Zathaniel didn't say anything, his uncle chuckled, "Do you not have a name, boy?"

Zathaniel looked back at his uncle, and murmured, "Zathaniel…Gilneau."

Captain Stoutfist barked out a, "What?" Then groaned in pain. "Surprises do me _no_ good."

The entire demeanor of both his uncle and cousin changed instantly. "Where's that lout of a brother of mine? Sends his son here while he does what? Wait around the corner? Or is he kissing up to Varian in Stormwind?"

"He's dead," Zathaniel blurted out.

Demetri literally took a step back. "What? When...how?"

"Demetri, ya may want to take him home to talk to ya. Out here isn't the best place. I'm sorry for ya loss."

As they approached the largest wooden house, Zathaniel noticed one thing about Menethil Harbor. No one stayed inside if they didn't have to. Most people were, instead, lounging around on small boats outside of their house. And like those people, Zathaniel spotted three women sitting beside the Gilneau house, holding small umbrellas. One spun around so quickly, the boat threatened to tip over, which made the other two shout at her.

"Considering how wet the town is now, we've removed all good furnishings from the first floor," he uncle explained, as if needing to. He sat down on a chair, his son on the opposite and there were a few more. Zathaniel picked on and sat down. No one said anything at first. The silence allowed him to study his uncle and cousin.

Both had chestnut brown hair, just like his father. Zathaniel, on the other hand, took after his mother's raven hair; as did Tess with her mother. They both had his father's teal eyes, just like he did. Still, he couldn't get over how much his uncle looked like his father. The only difference was, his uncle had a slightly thicker nose than his father, which offset his entire face.

Realizing that they felt as awkward as he did, Zathaniel spoke up. He told them how his father had died and included the fabricated tale of his mother's death. He told them what happened to Gilneas, which seemed to have a strong affect on Demetri. As soon as the tale was over, Zathaniel met the three ladies. The first that walked in was an older blonde woman, whom he learned was Demetri's wife: Emafaire. The next girl, whom Thorne introduced, was his fiancée: Violette. And finally, the third girl came in. She was the youngest, wearing all pale pink. Zathaniel recognized her to be the girl that nearly tipped the boat. Her hair was the perfect mix between his aunt and uncle's and she, like him, had teal eyes. It was, of course, his cousin: Emagene.

It was safe to say that Zathaniel was immediately welcomed into this house. He was treated with kindness that he did not expect and he was quickly made out to be the "long lost nephew/cousin" of this family. Zathaniel's skill made his uncle and aunt proud, but his cousin seemed immediately envious. Zathaniel, however, found it harder than ever not to change into a worgen while in combat and more than once, he was certain his cousin caught a glimpse of his claws or morphing ears.

Tonight, everyone sat around the table, listening to a story his uncle told about his brother. They laughed, they smiled, but Thorne and Zathaniel glared at one another. Each day Zathaniel spent in Menethil Harbor, the tension between the two of them grew.

"So tell me, _dear cousin_, how old are you?" Thorne asked, his face showing no curiosity at all.

"I had just turned twenty-nine shortly before my people left for Darnassus. I didn't seem to notice until I was informed what the date was." Zathaniel leaned back in his chair, feeling incredibly irritated.

"Twenty nine? And single?"

"Yes."

"Do you have no wish to be married?"

Before he could reply, his uncle let out a chuckle, "I was a much older man when I married your mother! And so was my brother, from the looks of it!"

Zathaniel gave a polite smile to his uncle, before turning his glare back on his cousin. "I was married not long ago. My wife, just like my parents, was killed in Gilneas."

Though Thorne's expression faltered for a moment, something came over him. He grinned and spoke over his sister and mother, whom were apologizing for his loss. "You mean to tell me with all of that skill, you couldn't protect anyone you cared about?"

He balled his fists up on his lap, his claws digging into his palms. "Your town sunk," he murmured. "My entire region was attacked by worgen, followed by Forsaken, ripped apart and destroyed by quakes, and finally attacked by orcs." In the words of his Aunt Mia, "_Everyone_ lost _someone_ in that catastrophe. I don't expect you to understand. Excuse me."

With Brutus by his side, he walked outside and made his way over to the docks. He sat there, with his feet hanging over the side, and allowed his mind to wander. Where was Djinjer? What was she doing? Would she _ever_ write back to him? Zathaniel sighed and rested his head on Brutus's. Pain engulfed his heart and for the first time since his father had been killed, Zathaniel felt alone and consumed by pain.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: **_Alright, I'm pretty certain this chapter is mistake free, but if there are mistakes, I apologize. Also, I know there's a common thought that Officer Jaxon is married to Auctioneer Jaxon, which is why he patrols around the AH, but since they look alike :3 I've decided to say they're related. Mainly because Officer Pomeroy looks just a bit too close to Zathaniel and I don't like the look of Officer Brady (not to mention he shows up EVERYWHERE I'm at!). I kind of needed this chapter. Why? Well...I didn't think it would be a very good chapter if it was just, "Here's some directions, get going." Well, I hope you all enjoy. Sorry it's taking so long. I've been having some horrible writer's block, but now it's gone :D  
_

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Traveling by enchanted ship was always quite interesting, considering how quickly it moved. You only noticed the speed if you were outside, watching everything pass by so quickly. On the inside of the ship, you didn't notice a thing. Of course one could tell the ship was moving-but not how fast, nor how long. Djinjer often lost track of time when traveling by ship. Then again…she rarely had a grasp on time, since Gilneas fell.

"We're here," one of the crewmates said from the doorway. Sure enough, as she was packing her things, she heard the tell-tale bell. She didn't know what she expected as she threw her enchanted backpack over her shoulder, but as she stepped out onto the ship's deck, Djinjer froze.

Stormwind was far more grand and mighty than she could have ever imagined. It didn't hold the beauty or the magic that Darnassus did, but in its own way, it was breathtaking. Djinjer cleared her throat and thanked the crew, which earned her some sheepish smiles.

Almost immediately, Djinjer regretted coming to Stormwind. She stood there on the docks, looking around, wondering where she could possibly go. Where would she begin looking for Zathaniel? Djinjer didn't know, but she wouldn't find him just standing still.

Djinjer made her way up the white-stone stairs and followed it around until she got to the top. In the short distance, she could see a rest area surrounding a small statute standing upon a fountain. She approached it, only slightly disappointed that it didn't work. But then Djinjer caught a glimpse of the Harbor. She shielded her eyes as she looked out at the entirety of the Harbor. The ship she had arrived on was now gone without a trace of ever having been there. There were other ships and in the distance, a light tower. Djinjer remembered the first time she saw the light tower in Gilneas. She wanted to live there…

"First time in Stormwind?" The accent of the speaker was so very different from the other humans she had met, such as the humans on the ship. While attractive, the accent seemed more foreign than that of the Night Elves.

Djinjer turned around to find a man garbed in white and blue armor. He wore a navy tabard with a lion's face embossed in gold upon his chest. His brown hair sat upon his shoulders and he sported a full mustache and beard. Beneath the facial hair, he looked young; maybe even not much older than Liam.

"Maybe," Djinjer replied, wondering if she were in some sort of trouble.

He grinned. "Judging by that accent…Gilnean?" She nodded in reply, which turned his grin into a smile. "You don't have to be afraid to speak to me. I don't bite…unlike you."

"So I'm a worgen just because I'm from Gilneas?"

"It's possible," he chuckled out.

Djinjer frowned at him. He was handsome…but irritating. In fact, he was so irritating that Djinjer decided right then and there that he was no longer handsome. "Please, sir, be on your way."

He looked around him, bit his lip, then his eyes fell upon her again. He continued grinning as he said, "I saw you get off of the ship. You're a cute little thing. You're cuter when you're lost…and you're absolutely adorable when you're angry. I'm Officer Binks Jaxon. Please, allow me to help you."

Now blushing and thoroughly aggravated, Djinjer sighed in defeat. "Fine."

"Well?"

"Well what?" she asked, looking at him.

"Why are you in Stormwind?"

"I'm looking for a friend," she replied. "His name is Zathaniel Gilneau." Officer Jaxon bit his lip again, this time as he stroked his beard. "He is the nephew to King Genn Greymane."

"Ah," he shook his head. "I'm afraid I haven't heard of him. However, I can take you to your King. That is, if you'll allow me."

"Alright," she murmured, walking back up the steps. She blinked up at him, confused when he didn't move. "Oh…do I pay you or something?"

He chuckled again. "No, my dear. I was merely thinking how polite of me it was to introduce myself, and how rude it was of you-"

"Djinjer Foreman," she interrupted. "Nice to meet you…_Binks_."

"The pleasure is all mine, _Djinjer_." He turned and bowed, holding his arm out. "After you, milady."

Djinjer snorted and stormed passed him. When he joined her, Djinjer glanced at him, only to find him grinning broadly. "Welcome to Stormwind, _Miss_ Foreman. Or is it _Mrs._?"

Djinjer glared at him. "It's Miss, not that it's any business of yours. Or are all men of Stormwind as brash and bold as you are?"

His face got very serious as he looked at her. "No, most definitely not. But many women prefer to use the terms, 'charming,' and 'dashing.'"

Djinjer stopped where she stood and turned around, storming in the other direction. The officer laughed and jogged to catch up to her. He grabbed her arm and quickly said, "Forgive me, forgive me. I'm merely trying to make you comfortable."

"You have an odd way of going about it, sir," she snapped out, yanking her arm from him.

He sighed. "I apologize. It's not often I interact with a new lady. In fact, I think I know of every single woman in Stormwind." He grinned again, "Maybe even dated over half."

"Isn't that nice?" she sneered.

"If I promise to behave…will you allow me to escort you?"

"Yes."

"And if you approve of my behavior, will you allow me to have your hand this afternoon?" She looked down at her hand, wondering if it would be worth it to send him her hand in a box. "As in a date?"

Suddenly, Djinjer froze. Her heart seemed to slur. She knew what he meant, so why-when he called it _that_-did she feel so strange? Perhaps it was because right now, at this very moment, she didn't know if she wanted to bite the man's face off or rip his armor off. Having only just discovered the change in her sexuality, it was hard dealing with men flirting with her; more so when she was certain she preferred only those of her own gender.

Djinjer sighed. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"I assume this Zathaniel person holds your heart?"

She looked up at him in shock. Did he? Did he hold her heart? Djinjer quickly shook her head. "No! He's my friend. _The husband of my dearest friend_." Djinjer was immediately cursing her words. The officer went from looking disappointed to completely thrilled.

"Then I assure you, I'll be on my very best behavior. Please stay close, Djinjer. Stormwind is a large city, some even say it can be confusing." Djinjer sighed softly and ignored his hand as she began walking back in the original direction they were heading. "This is the canal," he explained to her. "We have many of those in Stormwind."

With each new area they walked through, Officer Jaxon made sure to tell her what the district was called and what went on in the district. Finally, after too many greetings from his female admirers, a sneer from a female officer, and far too much time spent with this man, they arrived at Stormwind Keep.

After crossing a wooden drawbridge, Djinjer found herself staring at a large and very detailed statue. "That would be our King. King Varian Wrynn. Since _your King_ has come to Stormwind, the two are often seen together. King Varian may keep a close eye on your people, but he trusts Greymane thoroughly. In fact, our young prince has taken a liking to him as well."

"That's…good," Djinjer said nothing else as Jaxon escorted her up the many stairs to a long and lavish hallway. Guards lined this hallway, armed and ready to fight should they need to.

Djinjer immediately spotted her king, and though she wanted to rush out to him, Djinjer knew better. The guards would probably have her dead before she even reached him! Djinjer turned her attention to the man that Greymane stood beside. He eyed her, then looked at Jaxon. "What brings you here, Jaxon?"

Jaxon knelt down on one knee, bowing his head, "I've come, escorting this Gilnean woman. She is in search of her King."

Djinjer didn't know why, but she blushed and couldn't bring herself to look at either of the Kings. "I don't think I could ever forget you, Djinjer." She was forced to look up as her king spoke softly. "I would have assumed _he_ told you where he was going."

Djinjer cleared her throat. "You…you know already? Why I'm here?"

"No, but I can assume it has something to do with my nephew. You two seemed inseparable. And if it doesn't have anything at all to do with my nephew, then perhaps Darius was right in that one day, you would profess your undying love for him?" The other king, whom sat upon his throne, laughed heartily.

Djinjer could feel her blush deepen in color; her cheeks seemed to have erupted with warmth. "He said he was going to a place called Menethil Harbor…but I don't know where that is. I was hoping he would be back in Stormwind by now."

"Jaxon," the officer stood, "do give her directions so that she may find King Greymane's nephew." The King of Stormwind looked back at Greymane, whom returned to his own chair. Immediately, the two began discussing the recapture of Gilneas, which interested her. She could have stood there and listened forever, but it seemed that with the King's orders, she and Officer Jaxon were dismissed.

After they had once more crossed the wooden draw bridge, the officer turned to her with a grin. "I'll give you those directions after dinner tonight. I'll meet you at The Blue Recluse tavern, in the mage quarter." With his index finger, he tilted her head up, "Let's say…seven?"

Though Djinjer wanted to slap his hand away from her, she sucked in her cheeks, inwardly sighed, and nodded, "Let's hope I can find that place."

"Just ask. The people of Stormwind are _very_ nice." And with that said, he began walking away. "Good day, Djinjer," he called out over his shoulder.

When Officer Jaxon disappeared from view, Djinjer groaned. She didn't know what to do, where to go. She knew nothing of this city and now she had some odd man torturing her. She sighed softly and took out her magical map. Sure enough, just as the elves had told her, the map showed her location. The map may have showed how large the city was, but it didn't show much else. It named each area, which Djinjer assumed would be enough. The Blue Recluse, Jaxon had said, was in the Mage Quarter.

The date, Djinjer thought, wouldn't go so bad. There was hardly anyone in the Blue Recluse, which she found primarily by following signs hanging outside of buildings. But as the day turned into the evening, the Blue Recluse slowly began filling up. The dim lanterns were suddenly turned brighter and each table's candle was lit. Djinjer could tell it was dark out, which meant one thing: Officer Jaxon would soon be in her company.

She finally stood up, stretching and cracking her back. Djinjer had been sitting at a small table in the corner of the second floor. No one bothered her and she was rarely checked upon by the young hostess, which is exactly how she liked it.

Djinjer slowly walked over to the railing and looked over to the first floor. Her heart immediately froze as her eyes found her Officer without even trying. He was greeting a few men here and there, waving at women, and as he approached the young hostess, Djinjer knew it was only seconds before she was sitting across from him. The hostess pointed upwards and Djinjer quickly threw herself away from the railing. She quickly slammed herself back down into her chair and took several deep breaths. Why was she so nervous?

She knew why….

Djinjer was terrified of enjoying this man's company; of longing to see him again.

Just as she thought, Officer Jaxon came up the stairs grinning. He eyed her and his grin faltered, but quickly picked up into a smile as he approached the table. "Good evening, Miss Djinjer. I was hoping you would have had a chance to get into something more comfortable."

Djinjer looked down at herself, then at him. He wore elegant, relaxing clothes…she still wore his armor. She cleared her throat and quickly explained, "I don't have anything else."

"Well, then," he continued smiling as he leaned over and held out some flowers to her. "I hope you like wildflowers."

Djinjer couldn't help but smile as she accepted them. No one had ever brought her flowers before. "They're beautiful," she said softly, inhaling their scent as the officer sat across from her. For a moment, they sat in silence until finally, she placed the flowers down beside her and smiled at him. "Thank you," she said softly.

"No need to thank me. Seeing your smile was payment enough." She blushed and looked away, which made him chuckle. "So you were on of the Gilneans that stayed behind in Darnassus?"

"Yes," Djinjer replied, finding the courage to look at him. "Not like any of us had a choice." She shrugged, "Some came here and others stayed behind. Simple as that."

"I suppose," he murmured, "Thank you." The young hostess placed two large tankards of mead on the table.

"What about the directions?" Djinjer asked softly, eyeing the tankard.

"Ah-ah. Don't think you'll get the directions _that_ quickly. I only just got here. I would like to enjoy my time with you a little more." He winked at her as he drank from the tankard.

Djinjer sighed softly as she leaned back in her chair. From then on, the officer did nothing but ask her questions, add a few comments here and there, and smile charmingly at her. Over all, the date was going quiet well, until things got a little strange. Being that the two of them sat so close to the stairs, it was only natural for people to pass them as they made their way to the second floor. Most people didn't even acknowledge them, but this one man did.

He stood behind the officer, staring at her. He watched her without blinking, without wavering. All he did was stare and breathe deeply and even in the dim light, Djinjer could see his eyes dilating.

The officer was chuckling at his own story when he seemed to notice Djinjer's eyes focused on something behind him, "I mean who does something…like that?" His chuckling came to a stop and slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder. Djinjer, for the first time, reached out to her tankard and drank from it. She nearly gagged on the contents. Mead was definitely not her first choice of beverage.

"Excuse me," Jaxon murmured. "Do you mind?"

The man's attention turned to the officer, a slight surprise washed over his face. It was as if he had just noticed Djinjer sat with someone. "I'm sorry, but…what is that _intoxicating _smell coming from your table?" The man was clearly Gilnean, but she had never, not once, met this stranger.

The officer turned back to her, looked around at the table, then murmured to her, "A friend of yours?"

"No," Djinjer shook her head.

Jaxon nodded and cleared his throat as he turned around. He stood up and Djinjer couldn't help but notice he puffed out his chest, but only slightly. "Please be on your way, sir. Whatever you are smelling, you need to smell it elsewhere."

The man's face quickly contorted in anger, only for him to yelp as he was sent crashing against the floor. Another man, one whom appeared to be racing upstairs, had slammed into him. Though there was _some_ concern, his attention quickly turned to Djinjer. He, like the other man, had dilated eyes. "Oi, aren't you that-"

"Excuse me!" Officer Jaxon shouted.

"I saw her first!" shouted the man on the ground, giving the new stranger a hard kick. Were it not for Officer Jaxon's quick reaction, the second man would have been sent tumbling over the railing to the first floor.

"I expected a bit more out of you Gilneans!" he shouted at the two men as he helped the second back to his feet.

The second man growled at the first and then dove at him. Both immediately started fighting, their fists slamming into each other's faces. "Stop it!" shouted another Gilnean male, one she recognized, but didn't know. He seemed to be interested in stopping the two men, but then stepped over them; his eyes locked on Djinjer.

Djinjer couldn't help but grab her belongings. "Jaxon!" she called out, but he was talking to a man with short blond hair.

The third Gilnean suddenly slammed onto the floor, and as Djinjer looked back at the fighting men, she saw that one had actually grabbed the third man's ankle. Djinjer stood up, her back pressed against the wall. Officer Jaxon and the other man quickly dove into the now three man pile up and began doing their best to pull them off of one another when a fourth man showed up.

"Djinjer?" he shouted. She looked at the newest man…very young man, and to her horror, saw the same look in his eyes. A few more human men joined Officer Jaxon and the blond man, hoping to stop it but instead, got pulled into the actual fight. "Quick!"

Even if this young man had the same expression as the others, Djinjer had some trust for him. She pushed her way past the group of rowdy men and quickly joined the hunter, whom raced downstairs with her. Djinjer could still hear the fighting, even as they hurried away from the Blue Recluse. As soon as they got to the canal, Djinjer stopped. She threw herself against the white stone wall and slid down to the ground, panting.

"Are you alright?" he asked, crouching down beside her. When she didn't reply, the hunter leaned in and inhaled deeply. Djinjer grabbed his face and shoved him away from her.

"What's _with_ all of you?" she shouted as he grunted.

The young man took a deep breath, then slowly got back to his feet. "Sorry, sorry! I can't help it!" he pouted at her. "I just…I don't know! It's weird! One moment, I'm getting a drink and the next, I'm following my nose!"

"What?" she shrieked, standing up. "What kind of nonsense is that?"

"It's not nonsense," Elijah murmured, leaning into her, but then quickly stepped away. "Ugh!" He shook his head and snorted. "I feel like I'm attracted to my sister!" He sighed loudly then walked over to the canal, "_You smell_."

"Well, I haven't exactly had time to bathe myself," she replied irritably.

"No, Djinjer, you smell _wonderful_. I didn't even know it was you and when I caught a whiff of _that_," he shivered. "All I know is I wanted whoever that scent was coming from."

"What _scent_?" she snarled. "I don't smell anything!"

"What do you expect, walking around with the scent of your recent heat lingering on you?" Djinjer turned to the new voice, one which wasn't male.

"You probably don't remember me," she smiled bashfully. "I healed you once…near the Blackwald in Gilneas."

"Janice! I'm so sorry!" Elijah quickly walked over to the woman, pulling her into his arm. "I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry about it," she giggled. "I understood as soon as I smelled her myself."

"This is Djinjer, the girl I told you about," Elijah quickly explained. Judging from the way the two interacted, there was a reason he seemed so embarrassed and guilty.

"So _you're_ the one!" Janice laughed softly and held her hand out to Djinjer. "One thing you're going to definitely need to learn, Djinjer, get that scent _off_ of you when you're out in public, even if it means drowning yourself in perfumes."

Djinjer still didn't understand, not entirely. Obviously, that showed, because the two grinned at each other. "C'mon," Janice held her hand out to Djinjer and though it felt odd, she accepted it. They must have looked strange, what with Elijah's arm around Janice's waist and Janice's hand holding Djinjer's.

Ignoring the stares, the three of them quickly made their way through Stormwind, where she was brought to a very odd part of the city. The road was buckled and in some places, broken. Some houses looked sunken, while others were risen. Janice dropped Djinjer's hand as they reached one crooked house. Elijah allowed her to walk in first, and then he followed, closing and locking the door behind him.

Judging from the looks of the house, carpenters did their best to level out the house on the inside, which didn't look _too_ bad. "C'mon," Janice murmured, walking upstairs. "_You _be a good boy and wait down here," she giggled out to Elijah, whom grinned back at her.

"Our scent drives them wild," Janice said as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. "That's actually how I officially met Elijah. There I am, fighting against bandits and he just comes out of nowhere, killing them all. You can imagine how shocked I was whenever he pulled me into his arms and started kissing me. Then again," she laughed softly as she walked over to a small basin. "I think I wanted him to kiss me. He smelled and looked _delicious_."

Then it clicked.

Djinjer understood.

How she felt towards Qiralyn's brother was exactly how these male Worgen felt towards her. "Most of us lady worgen are fairing with it quite well. Our scent doesn't get to be as strong if we're relaxing and not doing much."

"It's sort of weird," Djinjer replied, watching Janice pour water into the basin.

"Here," she said. "You can wash up here and also," she walked over to a dresser and pulled out some thin under-armor clothes. "They might be a bit small, but it'll be best if you toss away your cloth clothing."

Djinjer didn't say anything as the woman walked out of the room. For a moment, she stood there and listened to Janice walk back downstairs and then, when she heard their muffled voices, Djinjer stripped down.

When she had washed herself and redressed, Djinjer joined the couple downstairs. Elijah seemed ready for bed, but the woman was still wide awake. "That's better," she said, smiling at Djinjer.

Djinjer smiled back as she joined them at the table.

"What brings you here?" Elijah asked softly. "I thought you wanted to stay in Kalimdor?"

"Trying to find my place in the world," she murmured softly. "I don't feel like I belong. I mean…" she sighed, "it's easy to move somewhere and say, 'This is my new home.' But to feel like it is? That's different."

"It's easier in Stormwind," Janice said softly. "At least, I think so."

"No, it is." Elijah added. "Darnassus was okay but…it's easier to settle here, to see your own kind and to feel like you're _part_ of the community, rather than just taken into it. Master Gilneau even agreed to that." Djinjer's heart felt as though it seized for a moment. Slowly she looked up at Elijah. How could she forget that Elijah was Zathaniel's initiate?

"I can't believe he's related to the King," Janice murmured.

"It was sort of obvious though, wasn't it?" Djinjer added, "He did resemble Liam."

"Oh, no," Janice sat up. "We _knew_ he was King _Greymane's_ nephew through his wife. I meant King _Varian_."

When Djinjer replied with only a stare, Elijah added, "King of Stormwind."

"He's related to _him_ too?" Djinjer shook her head. "How?"

"King Varian's mother is his grandfather's sister." Janice shrugged. "You'd think the King of Stormwind would want to keep his cousin close, not send him out into the world immediately."

Then it dawned on Djinjer.

"Damn!" she hissed, "I was supposed to get directions from Jaxon!"

"Directions to where?" Elijah asked, seeming very interested now.

"To the Wetlands." Elijah blinked at her, then slowly grinned.

"You mean to Zathaniel, right?" when she blushed, he laughed. "Well, you won't need directions!"

"Why's that? Is he back in Stormwind?"

Elijah shook his head, "I'm going to the Wetlands. I'm not going to Menethil Harbor, though. Greenwarden's Grove! _But_ I _do_ know the way."

Djinjer couldn't believe her luck! Though she felt bad for leaving Officer Jaxon in that ruckus, she was more than relieved to come across a friend that would help her! "When do we leave?"

Elijah grinned, looked at Janice, then back at her. "Whenever you're ready."


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note:** _Hey guys! I know this chapter isn't really much, but it sets the ball in motion, so to speak. Originally, I intended to end the entire fic around the time that the beginning quests ended, but...I don't know, the story didn't stop. Funny how that happens. Regardless, I'm planning something big in the next chapter. So we'll return to the action soon, don't worry. :) Remember, if you want extra information on this fic (character information and pics) you can do so by looking up Djinjer AWorgens Tale on facebook or check out my profile and click the link :) Enjoy!  
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They had been running nonstop; through snow, through grass, through muck and swamp. They didn't stop for anything; not to drink, not to eat, not even to gain flight approval from the gryphon masters. She couldn't take it anymore. Her ankles and wrists throbbed, her feet and hands were numb, and her lungs begged for air.

Djinjer came to a crashing stop, which was very unfortunate for Elijah, considering she crashed into him. He yelped as they were sent skidding off of the road. "For the love of Gilneas!" he shouted as he stood up.

Djinjer remained on the wet, muddy ground. "I can't do it," she breathed out. "I need a break."

He was panting just as heavily as she was, but he shook his head. "What's the point of stopping now? I can actually _see_ the Greenwarden's Grove."

"No," she panted out. "I can't go any further. Drag me or wait for me."

"How about I leave you here to be swarmed by fleas and gnats?"

"Would you really?" she breathed out. "It's okay, you're trying to kill me anyway."

"Djinjer, you're being ridiculous."

Djinjer finally sat up, glaring at him. "No, _you_ are! We could have _stopped_ at least once! When I said I wanted to leave in the morning, I didn't mean we needed to get to the Wetlands in thirty minutes!"

"Don't be silly," he said, holding his hand out to her. "It's been _hooours_."

"That's more of a reason to take a break!" she snarled, grabbing his hand. He pulled her up to her feet, which throbbed in protest. "My feet hurt."

"I'm pretty sure they're paws now."

"Shut up!" she barked out.

Elijah laughed, but together, they stood there panting. Finally, Elijah said, "Okay, maybe I rushed, but I swear, I didn't notice the flight master until _after_ we had already passed him."

"Why are you in such a hurry anyway?"

"I'm not. But when I'm running as a worgen, I just feel…free. It's like I _should_ be running fast or not running at all." He stretched and shook himself, which was much like a yawn. Seeing or hearing a worgen stretch like that made her want to do the same.

"What about Pooch?"

"I think she's spoiled to not running anymore," he said, turning around. "How is she?"

The large brown mastiff looked at Djinjer and she could have _sworn_ the dog smiled at her as the dog's tongue flopped out. The poor girl looked like a strange cocooned creature upon her master's back. "You should let her out. She'll get out of shape if you carry her everywhere, but she won't be able to keep up if you keep running like the wind!"

Elijah sighed and carefully removed his second, netted backpack. He quickly undid the straps around his mastiff and immediately, she barked and began chasing her tail. "You're so strange," she said to Elijah, whom grinned at her.

"Remember when I got her?"

"How can I forget?" He smiled happily, but seemed to forget the crucial reason as to _why_ she would never forget…or maybe he didn't know why. She had hid the wound so well; the wound that had changed her life forever. "Alright," she said. "Let's keep going but if you don't want to kill me or Pooch, slow _down_."

"I know, I know," he said softly, patting his mastiff. Together, the three of them made their way to the Greenwarden's Grove, which was-by Djinjer's standard-completely amazing. She couldn't stop staring at the large, green moss creature that stood in the middle of the camp, but as soon as Elijah started making his way out of the Grove, Djinjer's attention was once more focused on the young hunter.

"Aren't you staying here?"

"Nope," he said. "I set my hearth," he flipped the small stone in his hand. "We both got our maps stamped with that seal, which means traveling here is…no problem." He chuckled, "I told you I'd bring you to Menethil Harbor and that's what I'm going to do."

"Actually, you said you'd bring me to Wetlands." Djinjer corrected.

Elijah turned around with a humorous look on his face. She knew he was trying to be serious, but he was almost too funny to look at. "Do you want to get rid of me?"

"No," she said with a smile. "Let's go, then."

"Let's. And no more sass, or I'll turn you around and make you run back to Stormwind."

"Right," she laughed out as she threw herself onto all fours. Again, the two began their trek. From the Grove to Menethil Harbor, it was a mostly straight road. That is, until they got close to the actual Harbor. The road was not only broken up, but sunken and covered with water as well. Djinjer and Elijah both came to a stop, standing straight. They looked out into the distance, only to find charcoal skinned dwarves fighting-as Elijah called them-gnolls. There were also murlocs and another type of creature that he called crocolisks.

Elijah and Djinjer jogged the rest of the way to the Harbor, only to stop at their bridge. Menethil Harbor looked as if it, too, had sunk. Most of the bridge, most of the land that they could see, was covered in water. Djinjer looked out to her left. Her stomach knotted as she saw the tale-tell signs of reef sharks. Even Gilneas had their own share of them.

"Do you smell that?" Elijah asked, his nose in the air.

"No," Djinjer replied, but felt nervous.

"It's gunpowder! There's a fight!" Elijah withdrew his gun and ran forward, his dog barking loudly beside him. She removed her own axe and followed. They passed two night elves, both whom looked shocked to see the two of them. But Djinjer could pay them little attention. As they approached the entrance of Menethil Harbor, Djinjer could see the charcoal skinned Dwarves fighting with other Dwarves and humans.

Elijah's dog charged forward as he opened fire amongst the dark dwarves. Djinjer also sped past her companion, letting out a roar that definitely caught their attention, startling them. This allowed both Djinjer and Elijah to take out several dwarves all at once. Djinjer swung her axe with expertise, hacking and slashing at the small dwarves' throats. It didn't take long for the other dwarves to get back into action, however. One by one, the attackers started to fall and finally, there were no more to kill.

Djinjer and Elijah both turned their attention to the large stone building in the center of the island. They could still hear the sounds of battle going on inside. A click caught her attention and slowly, Djinjer looked at the nearest, straw haired dwarf. He was an old dwarf, there was no denying that. Even his armor looked old, but judging from the looks of it, he was someone important.

"Stay back, you beasts!" he shouted. "I'm mighty thankful for the help, but I'm not about to let your kind take _their_ place!"

"Djinjer," Elijah nudged her. "Just run in," he murmured softly. "Zathaniel's in there, I can smell him." That may have been true, she thought, but if Zathaniel really was here, then why would a worgen be new to these people? All of them were prepared to kill her and Elijah where they stood. "Go, girl!" he shouted to his dog. Pooch didn't need to be told twice.

Both Djinjer and Elijah ran into the damaged building, dodging bullets and ignoring the cursing and shouting from the guards of Menethil Harbor. It wasn't hard to make their way through the dark halls. All they did was follow the bodies. "Upstairs," Elijah whispered as they came into a large, open area. The two of them dashed up stairs, but immediately came to a stop on the second floor.

A human spun around and held his gun out. "What the in the world are they?" he shouted as a familiar face joined him. Djinjer's heart froze as the man fired his gun.

"No!" shouted Zathaniel, slamming the man against the wall with such force, it cracked and buckled. Djinjer yelped as the bullet slammed into her pauldron, only to ricochet off of it and slam into Elijah, whom grunted and fell to the floor.

"Elijah!" she shouted, but the hunter held his hand up.

"I'm okay," he murmured. "Didn't make it through the leather…still smarts a good bit."

"Elijah?" Zathaniel stepped over the unconscious man and closer to the young hunter. He knelt down and quickly surveyed where the bullet hit. "Definitely good leather," he murmured. "What are you doing here?"

"Escorting her," he snorted, but quickly added. "These people are complete nutters!"

Zathaniel, whom appeared more like he did the first time she met him, looked over his shoulder at her. His hair was still in the same style as she had last seen, only now it was neatly styled. The scruffy, thickness of his beard was now clean shaved, leaving only his goatee. More importantly, he looked…happier.

A sudden guilt filled Djinjer as he stood up. Even in the dark she could see his fancy new clothing. He didn't greet her. He didn't smile. He stared at her. With each second that passed, Djinjer's heart thudded harder. And then he turned away, which hurt more than it should have. "I need to get my cousin out of here, and I need to report to the Captain. Do _not_ turn into your human forms."

"Why not?" Elijah asked, plucking the bullet out of the thick leather chest piece.

"They don't know…and they don't need to know," he snapped out, quietly and more than bitter.

Zathaniel picked up the unconscious man and quickly made his way downstairs. Djinjer stared after him. "Why doesn't he just say he's killed us and make us leave after dark?" she growled loud enough for Zathaniel to hear, even if he pretended not to.

Slowly, with a look of concern from Elijah, the two of them walked downstairs and followed Zathaniel out of the Keep, only to stop just before the doorway.

"My son!" they heard a man scream. "What have they done to my son?"

"Nothing, uncle," Zathaniel replied. "He merely tripped and knocked himself unconscious."

Djinjer slowly peeked out from the doorway, watching the men. Zathaniel was wearing a long red coat, embroidered with gold designs. Djinjer suddenly remembered Liam and how disheveled he had looked, only to have cleaned up later. Dressed like that, there was no denying Liam and Zathaniel were related.

The other man, whom had brown hair, knelt over his unconscious son. There was a slight resemblance to Zathaniel, but this man was nearly an exact, older replica of the unconscious man.

"The beast!" shouted the dwarf, holding up his rifle, but Zathaniel reacted quickly.

"No," he said firmly, tilting the rifle down. "They are not beasts. They are worgen." He turned to the doorway and once more, their eyes met. "Come."

Elijah walked past her, but Djinjer couldn't help but feel insulted. How dare he command them around like animals? How dare he assume he was now better than them? Flushed with anger, she joined Elijah making sure to glare her most hateful of glares at Zathaniel. He obviously noticed, because he turned away. "Do not harm them," he added. "They are friends and were most likely sent by the King's order."

"I was!" Elijah blurted out, "But I'm stationed in the Greenwarden's Grove." Everyone seemed taken back by Elijah's sudden outburst, almost seeming shocked or amazed that he could speak.

"Are you sure they didn't harm him?" the older man asked, a touch of accent lingering on his words. These men were obviously Zathaniel's relatives that he wrote about. He even confirmed that the unconscious git was his cousin, which meant the older man was his uncle.

"Thorne!" a woman screeched out. She and another woman trudged through the water, not seeming to care if they soaked their dresses.

"It's alright, Ema!" the older man said to his obvious wife.

"Are you alright?" the young girl asked, racing over to Zathaniel. Her eyes were filled with tears as she threw her arms around him.

Zathaniel pulled away from her and nodded, but approached Djinjer instead. The action appeared to have confused everyone. It definitely confused her.

Djinjer did her best to ignore Zathaniel as he stood there, staring at her. Instead, she grinned as she watched Elijah. The Captain was quickly voicing his concerns to Elijah, whom did his best to counter those concerns. If he had a tail, she was certain it would wag each time he replied to the Captain. "Why did you come?" Zathaniel finally asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Djinjer couldn't explain the anger that washed over her. "I'll leave," she quickly muttered, staring down at him.

He opened his mouth to reply, but his cousin finally let out a grunt and shouted, "What the _hell,_ Zathaniel?" He slowly sat up, groaning in pain.

"Are you injured, son?" his father carefully helped him sat up.

"My ribs…" he looked around and then his eyes landed upon Elijah. He backed away quickly, then found Djinjer and finally Zathaniel. "Did…did you really protect _them_? From _me_?"

The truth seemed to dawn on Zathaniel's uncle, whom turned to him with wide eyes. His aunt, on the other hand, quickly added, "Your cousin would _never_ protect such horrid beasts! He would never harm you!"

"Right," Zathaniel's cousin shrugged off his parents and quickly got to his feet, storming up to the two of them. "Tell them the truth, you lying cad!"

Zathaniel's expression suddenly changed. He glared at his cousin and seemed both angry and insulted. "Yes, I protected these innocent people."

"People?" his cousin held his chest, but raised his gun to Djinjer. "They're beasts! Prove to my family you're not as _good_ and _noble_ as they think you are! You _shoved_ me into that wall! For _it_!"

Djinjer snorted and intended to walk away, but stopped as Zathaniel grabbed his cousin's wrist. "I swear, Thorne, you _harm_ a _hair_ on her or his body and I'll give you a broken wrist to match those ribs." His cousin's hand trembled and then the pistol fell to the ground.

"Let go, Zathaniel!" Thorne snarled through clenched teeth.

"Zathaniel!" shouted his uncle, but Zathaniel didn't budge. He continued glaring at his cousin, his eyes slowly turning gold, his fingers growing larger, darker and clawed. His cousin got a good glimpse of this before Zathaniel suddenly let him go. His cousin crashed into the stone walkway of the building.

"You could have hurt him!" his aunt shouted out as she raced to her son.

"I'll house them, Captain. You don't have to worry." Zathaniel grabbed a hold of Djinjer's arm and stormed away from the growing crowd. Elijah followed closely, seeming afraid of the trigger happy community. They walked in silence for far too long, and only when they reached a small path did Elijah speak up.

"I'm just…" Zathaniel spun around with a look upon his face that she hadn't seen since before the fall of Gilneas. In fact, he had that same exact expression upon his face the night she had saw him leave the hunter's tent. "Going to hearth," he cleared his throat and gave Djinjer a nod. "See you."

"Thanks," Djinjer murmured. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"You didn't," he murmured, both his hands and his hound glowing green. "Bye," and with that, the hunter was gone. Djinjer _hated_ using her hearthstone. It made her dizzy and feel incredibly sick. Not only that, but her ears always popped constantly after using the means of such magical transportation.

Djinjer turned to look at Zathaniel, only to see the fabric of his coat making its way around the corner. Djinjer sighed and quickly jogged to catch up. The path, if one didn't know where it was, was impossible to follow. She often slipped and tripped while Zathaniel had no problem walking it. It got to the point that they were quite high above the ground, which made Djinjer a bit nervous. In fact, right as she was certain she couldn't go any higher, the two came upon a flat farmland. There was a large field with different vegetables growing, a stone stable house, and finally, a large stone house that was built into the mountain's side.

A small cobblestone road lead away from the house, which, from the looks of it, lead to a whole community full of hill and mountainside homes.

"G'day, _Viscount_!" called out a female voice.

"G'day, _Baron_!" called out a male voice.

"Must you _always_ argue with me, you filthy lump!"

Djinjer quickly approached Zathaniel, whom had stopped just before reaching the small porch of his home. "Good day, my friends. And to put an end to your every-day-argument, I am neither 'Viscount' nor 'Baron.' Is that clear?"

Djinjer finally spotted the owners of the voices. Two dwarves, a male and female, stood inside of the stable. Both appeared to be off-duty guards. And it seemed that as she noticed them, the two of them noticed her. Both dwarves stood from the stone slab they were sitting on and took only a few steps forward.

"What the blazes is that?" the male croaked out, not seeming phased enough to stop eating his overly large sandwich.

"I know!" the female shouted out. "It's a worgen! I told ya bout them," she said, smacking the male dwarf so hard, he began choking.

Zathaniel chuckled as the female dwarf began patting the back of the male dwarf. "Kaleigh, one day…you'll be the death of me," the male dwarf coughed out. "Don't remember ya sayin' anything bout _war-gons_."

"_Wor-gen_!" the Kaleigh's cheeks flushed pink with irritation. "I tol' ya bout them last time I went to Ironforge! The King of Stormwind had made sure to notify all o' the Alliance about them!"

Zathaniel, whom seemed extremely uncomfortable, cleared his throat and got the attention of the dwarves, "This is Djinjer, my _friend_. I'd like to stand out here all day and listen to you two bicker, but a storm _is_ rolling in and you two _should_be done with your lunch break soon."

The male dwarf shrugged and took another large bite of his sandwich and made his way back to the stone slab. The female dwarf, on the other hand, smiled and waved. "Come, Djinjer," Zathaniel ordered again, grabbing her wrist. Though irritated with him, Djinjer could hardly be mad as they walked down into the house.

The main room of this stone house looked like the living area. There was a table and chairs, extra chairs, a fur rug, weapons and some ammunition. A stone fireplace sat in the corner, keeping the room just warm enough to take the chill out of the air. It's inglenook had pots, pans, and a kettle stacked neatly inside of it. Beside the fireplace was a set of stairs leading downward and further back in the room was a set of stairs going up.

When she turned back to Zathaniel, she found him sitting at the table, his feet propped up on another chair. "You look good," he said. "Well, as good as a worgen can look, I suppose."

"I don't know if I should feel insulted or complimented," she murmured, her ears twitched, which notified her of how close her head was to the ceiling.

"Feel free to get comfortable." He said softly, which was keyword for turning back into a human.

Djinjer glared at him before shaking herself. Suddenly, the room seemed large, which Djinjer thought was odd, considering dwarves were so small. Djinjer didn't say anything as she made her way to a random chair against a wall and sat there, staring at the small fire.

Zathaniel let out a soft, "Hm," but when she looked at him, she found him looking away from her. Zathaniel's fist was brought up to his face, his lips resting against his fingers. Djinjer couldn't help but sigh. She couldn't stay angry with him. Irritated, maybe, not angry. Not after everything they had ever been through. "Why don't they know?"

"Why should they?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the opposite wall. "I have a chance to start my life over, without carrying such a burden. If you had the same chance," he looked at her, "wouldn't you take it?"

Djinjer looked back at the fire and thought about it. Why would she hide what she was…for anyone? If there was one thing she was quickly beginning to learn, it was that some people were _meant_ to be worgen. Some people were happy with what they had become and didn't focus on the past. They were looking to the future. She was looking to the future while taking every day one at a time. Zathaniel, and other nobles, seemed to be ashamed. It was as if they strived to stay as human as possible. Finally, Djinjer looked back at him and answered.

"All of us have already had that chance, Zathaniel. And most of us refuse to deny what we really are. I mean, our people are now spreading out into the world. Setting up new homes in places that most of us haven't even heard of." She frowned, "Zathaniel…our own _King_ is setting up some of our bests with Stormwind's numbers in attempt to gain Gilneas back. What will happen if we do get it back? Will we all just go home? Will everyone just leave their new homes behind? Gilneas is over. Our people are too scattered, too _shattered_ to ever go back to how we were."

When Zathaniel said nothing, Djinjer added, "If Gilneas is ever taken back, it may never recover. Our King is getting old." She scoffed, "He already is! And his son, his _heir_ is gone. Can _any _of us take Tess seriously? Will she be Queen? Who will be our King? We'll need a leader, not just a husband."

"I don't like the way you're talking," Zathaniel said firmly. "'If' is only a word that shows you have no confidence in our people."

"No, Zathaniel," she quickly interrupted. "Okay, let's say Gilneas becomes ours again. How many of us will return? Do you know? No, you don't."

"Nor do you!" he hissed.

"We will have to scour the city, the towns…the _wild_ for our dead! We'll have to remove their bodies and bury them! We'll have to rebuild and reunite our people! We can't do that right now! I don't know if we'll ever be able to do that, Zathaniel. …your home is still filled with your family heirlooms…and Kimberly."

Djinjer gasped as Zathaniel kicked the chair his feet were resting upon. Before she had time to react, Zathaniel had grabbed her by her undershirt, yanked her off of her chair, and had pinned her against the wall. "Don't you think I know that? Don't think our soldiers and our King knows that? I know Kimberly is still there! I know her parents are still there! But don't forget, Djinjer, your parents are still out there, too!" He let her go and sighed loudly, making his way to the fireplace. He stoked the fire and muttered, "At least I'll be able to bury their remains. Your parents will be nothing but fish food."

The words felt like a dagger slicing through her heart. Her vision blurred as tears sprung to her eyes. Even though she clamped her eyes shut, the tears seemed to squeeze through. And with each tear that fell down her cheeks, Djinjer hated herself more. Humiliation washed over her as a sob escaped.

"Damn it, Djinjer," he murmured and then suddenly, she was pulled into his arms. "I just thought…my family here would give me back what I lost. My father, my mother…Liam. It's so hard to see the world unchanged, when your world was destroyed around you. Gilneas…" he sighed and his embrace got tighter. "No matter where we go, it'll never be home. I have faith in our people…and I believed in Liam's dream. His death will have been for nothing if we don't fight for our region, for our people."

As he pulled away from her, Djinjer quickly wiped at her face, only to be disgusted. Zathaniel laughed, obviously finding humor in her wiping her muddy, filthy gloves on her face. "Go upstairs," he said softly. "You'll find everything you need to get clean. And…" he shrugged. "Just wear something of mine. I'll cook you some dinner…and we can catch up on everything that's happened."


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note:** _This chapter actually drew itself out longer than I thought it would. By that I mean, I imagined more would happen, but to make it all seem a little bit more believable, I had to think up something that would seem a bit more realistic than my first plan: a giant freaking shark. (I blame shark week) With a stronger layout of what's going to happen in her journey, I think the fanfic MAY move faster but I must warn all of you that uploads may be slower. My novel is in its final stages after loads of work and editing. If you'd like more information on the story or even updates in general, you can friend me via **facebook** by searching **Djinjer AWorgens Tale** or simply type out _**/worgenstale** _after the initial URL_**  
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Djinjer lurched up from the bed, panting heavily. Though the morning was crisp and cool, her entire body was covered in sweat. Only a moment passed before she calmed her breathing and remembered just where she was. With a deep breath, Djinjer threw the blankets off of her and stood up. It felt like every bone in her body had popped and sighed in relief as she stretched.

The nightmare, however, still lingered on Djinjer's heart and mind, making her feel sick. Just as it always did…

Since she had left Gilneas, Djinjer had the same reoccurring nightmare. It never changed and it always made her react the same. The nightmare was always about her days in Gilneas, how everything changed so quickly. One minute she was a no one, and the next, she was a soldier. She had become important…she had even been relied upon by their very Prince. But in the nightmare, instead of the man cowering in the corner, it was Zathaniel in the corner. Always was he holding out his hand, beckoning her to join him…

The image of his snarling worgen face flashed through her memory, causing her to shudder. After taking Zathaniel's hand, flashes of memories would run through her mind like lightning. Sadness, terror, hopelessness, grief, and death…. She wanted those memories to be gone. She wanted to forget everything she had witnessed. She wanted to forget how the blood spurted from Liam as he was shot and killed in front of them.

She shook her head and forced back the tears. There was no time to live in the past. Djinjer slowly moved over to the porcelain pitcher, pouring the cold water in the basin. The cloth immediately absorbed the water and floated to the top of the bowl. Though she would have preferred a warm bath, the cold water on her face and on the back of her neck made her feel much better.

Djinjer looked over her shoulder as she heard the unmistakable laugh of a dwarf. Slowly, Djinjer approached the closed doors on the second floor and opened them, only to reveal a small balcony. As she walked out onto the balcony, Djinjer leaned over, resting on the stone railing. The male dwarf from yesterday was slowly riding away on a ram, which brought her eyes to the other person standing in the yard.

Zathaniel was circling his garden, surveying the vegetables and herbs he was growing. As if feeling her eyes, he looked up and hesitantly waved. Djinjer waved back as Zathaniel came closer. "Slept well?" he called up. Djinjer shrugged in reply. "Hungry?"

In the life of an adventurer, one _never_ said no to a meal. "Sure," she answered, turning to make her way downstairs. Zathaniel was already plating food when Djinjer came downstairs and sat heavily on a chair, bringing her legs up and crossing them. When he turned around, Zathaniel seemed more than startled. He placed the plate in front of her, keeping his eyes directly on the food and then sat completely opposite of her.

"You're seem strangely bashful," she murmured, shoving a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

"Considering…" when he didn't finish, Djinjer looked up. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were closed.

She shoved half a slice of toast into her mouth, tucking it into her cheek when she asked, "Considering what?"

Zathaniel sighed heavily, opening his eyes only to look _away_ from her. "You're sitting at my table in nothing but a shirt."

"I have undergarments on," came the muffled retort. She swallowed her food and quickly added, "If I don't care, then why should you? Y'have any juice?"

Zathaniel cleared his throat as he quickly made his way to the pantry, poured her a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and placed it on the table. "Now sit," she said, pulling out the chair next to her. Again he sighed, but obeyed-pulling out the chair across from her. "And actually look at me. It's not like I'm parading around naked with a tea cozy on my head."

Zathaniel grinned and to her pleasure, he did look at her. His eyes stayed locked on hers. "I've never seen you with your hair down."

"Haven't seen you with _your_ hair down," she shrugged, eyeing his perfect braids. "I don't see why that's so important."

"It's not," he chuckled out.

She shoveled more eggs, meat, and toast into her mouth as she stared at him, which made him laugh again. "Definitely not a lady."

"I-refent-dat," came the muffled reply.

"You _resent_ that? You just shoved half of the food from your plate into your mouth and then _talked_. No proper lady would do that," he laughed out.

She couldn't help but smile as she swallowed her food. "You're silly, you know that?"

"And your-" Both of them abruptly fell silent as the door was knocked on twice. "Hm," but as Zathaniel rose to open the door, the door was opened and down from the stairs came Zathaniel's cousin. The brown haired man looked at Zathaniel, then at her, only to look back at Zathaniel.

Zathaniel glared at his cousin, whom looked back at her. "It's just as I thought," he said quietly. His accent, though Djinjer knew it to be the average human accent, was still strange and foreign to her; especially this early in the morning. Djinjer couldn't help but feel nervous. What would happen once the truth got out. "You _are_ staying here because of a woman. I told father there was only one real reason you'd purposely live so far away from the Harbor."

Zathaniel, whom had tensed up, suddenly seemed to relax. "You've caught me," he murmured softly.

"I've just come to check on the beast…make sure it's staying in line. Where is it? In the basement?"

"No," Djinjer snorted, which gained her a glare from Zathaniel.

"Djinjer, this is my cousin, Thorne," Zathaniel introduced. "He's the son of my father's brother."

"Nice to meet you," she muttered out just before drinking from her juice.

Thorne blanched as he looked at her, then turned his eyes back on his cousin. He said nothing as he spun around and quickly made his way out of the hovel. Zathaniel sighed loudly, then turned around and glared at her. "You know what he's thinking right?"

"The truth, most likely," Djinjer shrugged. "I don't see why it's that big of a deal."

"Get dressed," he ordered, perhaps a bit too harshly. Though Djinjer didn't say anything, she definitely thought it. But not one to argue, Djinjer quickly changed back into her armor and followed Zathaniel out. "Look at that," the female dwarf said as the two dwarves were making their way to the stable. "Wolf lady goes in, human lady comes out."

Djinjer smiled at her and jogged to follow Zathaniel closer. He said nothing to her as they walked back to the Harbor. They trudged through the water, which Zathaniel was apparently used to and made their way to his uncle, cousin, and dwarf captain. Djinjer didn't need her worgen hearing to know what they were talking about. She was most likely right in her thinking: they were beginning to suspect Zathaniel wasn't entirely…human.

"Speaking of," Thorne murmured, glaring at his cousin.

Zathaniel glared back as he approached the group. Immediately, his uncle stepped out, "Where's your creature friend? Or is this homely girl something else?"

"Hey!" Zathaniel grabbed her wrist before she could do or say anything stupid.

"It's amazing that you pride yourself so much, uncle, when you don't do anything worth priding yourself over. Don't think I don't know about your spat with the King… After all, _you_ did fail him when he was kidnapped." His uncle suddenly became flushed, "Because of your lack of communication with him, you know nothing about Gilneas except for what I've told you. I'm not here to visit, like you think. Gilneas has fallen. First to the Curse of the Worgen and then to the hands of the Forsaken Army. All surviving Gilneans left, some cursed…some not."

"You better watch your tongue, boy," his uncle huffed out.

"No," Zathaniel sighed. "Djinjer's right. I am what I am…and I should never be ashamed of it. She is a worgen…and so am I."

"Ha!" Thorne shouted. "I knew it! He's a beast! Hide your children! He'll probably carry them away in the night!"

Djinjer wiggled her wrist in his hand. He turned his eye upon her and softly she whispered, "I think we should leave."

"No, Djinjer, we're not leaving." He turned back to his uncle, then directed towards the Dwarven captain, "It was only yesterday that _we-you and I-_were complaining of the food shortage and complaining of the recent Naga attacks on our supply ships. She and I are _not_ bad people. The Alliance has accepted the Worgen and _our_ King," his uncle snorted, which gained Zathaniel's glare, "stands beside King Varian, showing his newfound allegiance to the human nations! No matter where you go, no matter how much time passes, you will come across more worgen. And as the days turn into years, our tolerance for your prejudices and fears will lessen."

"How dare-"

"I have no problems with ye," the dwarf captain murmured. "Ya helped us time and time again. From the sounds of it, ya want to help us some more. Ya gon' take out the naga?"

"Yes…followed by the shark problem."

His cousin began laughing. "What can _you_ do about sharks?"

"More than you, obviously." And with that said, Zathaniel, Djinjer, and the captain walked over to the new dock.

"If I had to pick between the Gilneau men, I'd pick you to stay," the captain said. "Now, ya remember what I was talkin' about?"

"Asking for assistance from Ironforge, particularly requesting a shaman from the Wildhammer Dwarves." When the captain nodded, Zathaniel grinned. "Let me guess, that dwarf chap at the end of the dock _is_ a shaman from the Hinterlands?"

"Nope," the captain chuckled. "He's better than the Hinterlands branch. He's from Kirthaven in our neighboring region. …The Twilight Hinterlands. Course, he _was_ sent to Ironforge to get proper training'n'all but he's a shaman! Can't complain with what ye were given." He grumbled away and then with excitement that seemed real, the captain called out the dwarf's name. "Khael!"

The dwarf, his face tattooed with blue markings, turned and joined them. "Mornin' to ye all!" It suddenly occurred to Djinjer that she had never seen such a young dwarf. His beard wasn't as long as the captains and his face wasn't as aged, but he was still quite thick and burly.

"Right then! These here are the two I said would help!"

"But ye told me _two_," he held his fingers up, "men. Unless human men got fairer," he eyed Djinjer.

The captain literally slapped his forehead. "Don't be daft! Plans change'n'all! Jus' take 'em and watch yerself!" As the captain stormed away, she could have sworn he slipped out a, "bloody Wildhammer," just loud enough for them to hear.

The shaman laughed as he held his hand out to Zathaniel. "Khael Brittlekeg."

"Zathaniel Gilneau, and this is my…_friend_, Djinjer Foreman."

"Nice to meet you," she held her hand out. Djinjer blushed as the dwarf pulled her hand closer to his face, kissing the back of it.

"The pleasure is all mine," Khael replied with a grin. "Right!" He turned around and walked over to the very edge of the dock. "You two ready to slay some naga?"

"What exactly _are_ naga?" Djinjer asked, looking between the two of them.

Zathaniel grinned, as if knowing Khael would be the one to quickly reply. "Nasty sea serpent buggers. Ain't something ye want around ye town, that's for sure!" He chuckled as he made his way down a ladder, then clapped his hands together. "Watch yer step!"

"After you," Zathaniel murmured as he gave one more look over his shoulder.

"Don't worry about them," Djinjer said as she made her way down the ladder. "There's nothing you can do about them."

Zathaniel nodded and then followed her down the ladder, catching Brutus in his arms after he got onto the small boat. The boat Khael had was hardly a boat at all. It was large enough for all three of them to sit, but it was short and very wide, which meant they sat close together. And just as she thought, Khael had Zathaniel row the boat while he rambled away about dwarves and how they made excellent lovers. Djinjer didn't mind, she had Brutus on her lap, whom looked just as amused as she was.

Djinjer found herself blushing the entire time they made their way out to the ocean. But with the Harbor still in sight, the dwarf called for them to stop. "This should be the spot," he muttered, holding his thumb out while he squinted with one eye shut. "Yep! Now, we're going to go _to_ those nasty buggers! Did some talkin' wit' other shamans and they say it would be best bubble _only_ the head!"

"I still have a hard time believing you're a shaman," Djinjer muttered, mainly because when she thought of shamans, she thought of calmer, more serene individuals; not dwarves.

"And I still have a hard time believing ye won't eat my face, but I still trust ye, don't I?"

"True enough," Zathaniel murmured, carefully standing up. He helped Djinjer to her feet and then, with a few hand movements from the dwarf, the world suddenly became oddly shaped and her voice echoed when she spoke.

"This won't burst?" she asked.

The dwarf shook his head and quickly he said, "We better get down there before they come up."

The three of them merely stepped off of the ship, and quickly, Djinjer began sinking faster than either of them. It took her only a moment to gain some strength back. While the other two wore leather and could swim easily, Djinjer had trouble. Her mail armor felt heavier than ever and with each kick, she still managed to sink a little.

Suddenly, the dwarf grabbed her, as did Zathaniel and they, too, were pulled down with her. "Djinjer," Zathaniel said to her, his voice sounding strange, "stop holding your breath." He puffed out his cheeks and then chuckled. "You can breathe."

Djinjer let out the breath she was holding and sighed. "I'm just not used to this!" she said back to him. "And it's so hard to swim!"

"Don't ye worry!" the dwarf said. "The bottom is where we need to go!"

Djinjer quickly looked down as her feet hit the ocean floor. "Wow," she said, finally looking around. "This is beautiful."

"But that," he dwarf pointed, still floating, "isn't!" Djinjer turned around, finding several sunken ships. Some looked older than others and…Djinjer's stomach churned. Outside of the newer ships were the bodies of ship's crew. Their wrists were bound and fastened to chains. Their upside bodies were floating there, rotting in the water. Fish picked at some while others were fleshy skeletons.

"The naga did this?" Djinjer asked, feeling frightened.

"Yes," Zathaniel murmured, releasing his bubble-headed hounded. Had such a disgusting display hadn't been right in front of them, Djinjer would have squealed with delight as she watched Brutus paddle in place. It was _adorable_. "Djinjer," when she looked at him, he nodded. She didn't need to be told. Djinjer grabbed her weapon just as her body began morphing and changing. The change was no where near as painful as it used to be.

"I'm ready," she growled out, glancing to see if Zathaniel had changed. For a moment, she was taken back by the large male worgen. She had nearly forgot what he had looked like!

"Those naga won' know wha' hit em, literally!" Khael chuckled and began swimming forward, a blue ball of lighting circling him.

Though slightly frightened, Djinjer felt more confident than she had since she left Gilneas. With Zathaniel by her side, Djinjer knew no matter what happened, she would be kept safe.

Djinjer suddenly yelped as a blue and green scaled creature shot out from the darkness of the ship, hissing angrily. "That's them!" shouted Khael and like a little shark, Brutus dashed forward, attacking the naga's tail. Zathaniel immediately attacked, firing his weapon underwater. Even it had been bubbled to work properly!

The shaman attacked, spells of lightning flowing from his hands. All that was left…was her. Gripping her axe, Djinjer charged forward, but it was for nothing. The large naga groaned and collapsed. And just as adorable as ever, Brutus swam back to Zathaniel.

"We'll take all of ye out!" shouted Khael. "For Menethil Harbor! For the Alliance!"

Two more naga appeared from the same ship and they, like the first naga, was easily taken down. But then they moved forward, further into the ship graveyard. "Oh my," Djinjer murmured, eyeing the large group of naga. She could now tell the difference between the males and females. While males were more serpent-like in nature and had only two arms, females on the other hand seemed to range from four to six arms. The females were also very beautiful in a sense. Their faces were far more humanoid than the males and around their heads and along their bodies was a solid color fin.

"We'll have to be careful," Zathaniel murmured. "And Djinjer, you'll have to be especially careful. The females are much smarter than the males."

"Isn't that how it always is?" she grinned at him, but he didn't grin back.

Zathaniel was in pure hunter mode. He was studying the area before him, figuring out the best way to attack their enemy. Djinjer turned her eyes back to the naga. Males were building what looked like homes and other males were bringing back supplies from the ships. The females appeared to be directing. Though the naga infestation was much larger than first assumed, even Djinjer knew that this was only a small number of them.

"Look," Khael muttered to Zathaniel. "That one's carrying dynamite. If we can get our hands on it and rig these ships up, most of their males will be killed. I'm betting we can kill the survivors with no problem!" It was the first time that Djinjer realized that the ships circled the naga camp and made a protective barrier.

"We'll have to be very careful," Zathaniel murmured. "Not to mention, we'll need to be fast about it, too. I know for a fact, that even food couriers carry explosive in the belly of their ship. The Captain said it's for if they ships are ever attacked. All we need to do is activate them, swim the hell away and hope for the best. Look…if we get those three ships," he pointed to three in the distance, "their explosions should be more than enough to ignite the other ships explosions."

"The problem is," Djinjer slid down the rock and stood on the ocean floor. "I can't swim fast!"

She shouldn't have said anything.

She shouldn't have mentioned a damn thing at all.

She was a close combat warrior. Sure, she was great upon land but in the water? Any close quarter soldier ran into trouble. Together, Khael and Zathaniel were inside the nearest ship. If there were any naga in the ship, they would make quick work of them. So why was she irritated? Why was she outside the ship instead of inside? To make sure she would be safe and not blown up, Zathaniel used her own logic against her. This morning, he was blushing and couldn't look at her because she wore a simple shirt at the table. Now, he had her stripped of her armor, which was carefully tucked behind the rocks they had hid behind.

So there she was, floating around in her undergarments. "If we don't care, then why should you?" he said with the most devilish grin. The dwarf quickly agreed, looked her over and shrugged. But wearing very little at the dinner table was very much different than being mostly naked in combat. But as Zathaniel argued, she was in her worgen form. There was nothing to see, as Khael put it, but she was _still_ naked!

Out from the ship swam Khael, followed by Brutus, followed by Zathaniel. Khael recast their bubble spell as Zathaniel told her, "The ship is all clear. Just keep following it down and head to the right. You'll see it. And keep a close eye on the door _and _the window."

"Why the window?"

"Because we'll be going to the third ship, clear that one and Khael will wait there. I'll head to the fifth ship and clear it out. Once I'm done, I'll hopefully be able to fire this flare. It's _very_ important that you squeeze through the window. Go back into your human form if you have to, Djinjer. If Khael can get through it, so can you." Djinjer eyed Khael, he was much thicker around than she or Zathaniel were. Before she could ask why, Zathaniel quickly added, "They're simple explosives. Pull the string to light them and once they're lit, swim _up_. It doesn't matter if the naga see you, which they probably won't. Just swim up, Djinjer."

"And then, once the explosions are over, we'll use those blasted naga's confusion and attack." Khael made a popping noise with his mouth. "Don't know if ye'll want to go get yer armor or just swim down there and use them big, scary claws of yers."

Djinjer sighed in her bubble and began swimming to the ship. The ship wasn't that hard to navigate, as it had a very basic and general design. She found the explosives and the window she was supposed to swim out of, and then she waited. It was eerie, waiting in the darkness of the ship, hearing echoing bumps and distant hisses of the naga.

Djinjer waited for what felt close to thirty minutes before she saw the red flash in the distance and immediately, she turned to the explosives. The string was floating lazily in the water and without another second of delay, Djinjer flung open the window, grabbed the string and pulled with all of her might. Djinjer squeezed through the window as a loud ticking sound emitted from the large, spiked ball.

Not even looking to see if the naga noticed her, Djinjer swam upwards as fast as she could. Even when she was certain she was far enough from the ship, she kept swimming. And then it happened.

Djinjer had never seen an explosion under water, but it wasn't much different than the explosions she had witnessed in Gilneas. And even from where she was in the water, she felt the sheer power of it. The third ship exploded and shortly after, so did the fifth.

The tiny dwarf was quickly making his way over to her as the second ship suddenly exploded, followed not long after the fourth. She turned her eyes upon the ocean floor, amazed to see that the majority of the naga were indeed dead. The others began swimming up after them, hissing angrily.

Zathaniel withdrew his gun and the shaman removed his hammers, but the naga suddenly stopped. Djinjer couldn't help but notice that the serpent creatures were looking _behind_ them. In one fluid motion, all remaining naga turned and began swimming in the opposite direction. "Tha's right!" Khael shouted. "Swim away, ya filthy scaled vermin!"

Djinjer turned around, her eyes turned upward to the surface. Even at their depth, she could see the dark figure above them. Without another word, Djinjer began making her way to the surface. She ignored Khael's shouting and ignored Zathaniel's questions. Something was happening up there, and whatever it was, Djinjer had a bad feeling. "Oi! Where ya going?" Khael shouted after her.

With a glance over her shoulder, Djinjer saw the two of them following her and in the distance, the naga were swimming quicker than ever to get away. Her bad feeling suddenly became stronger. As she reached the surface of the water, Djinjer gasped for air, shaking her head. She brushed her mane back and out of her eyes and then Djinjer knew why the naga had swam away and why she had such a bad feeling. Even from where she was in the water, Djinjer could clearly making out the dark, flying creature.

"Woo!" Khael shouted as he surfaced. "Did ye see 'em? Didn' know wha' hit 'em!" He sniffed loudly, then asked, "What's tha' smell?"

"Oh, no," Zathaniel murmured. "The Harbor!"

Djinjer couldn't help but stare in horror. _Everything_…was burning.


	26. Chapter 26

_**Author's Note: **I gotta admit. This took so long primarily because it didn't work out at ALL how I wanted it to. In fact, I kind of hate how it turned out. I love the ending, however. Which means yes, the next chapter will be about Djinjer in the Arathi Basin. Granted, I haven't actually played Arathi Basin in years. (I don't PVP much anymore) but I remember it well enough to know that it would NEVER work in the fic unless I changed a lot of it. So, that's what I'm doing. Once I decided to take her to the basin, I really thought hard about it...which delayed the fic as well. I also apologize for any mistakes as I finished this while my trusty proof reader was out of town. I have severe Writer's Eye. For more information about the characters and screen shots, please feel free to check out /worgenstale_

* * *

Zathaniel sprung forward, swimming as fast as he could. Djinjer followed, ignoring the protests of the dwarf. Flashbacks began racing through her mind. She had swam as fast as she could to get to her house. And each time she got closer, someone called for help. Now, she and Zathaniel were racing back to the Harbor. Would they get there in time?

She glanced over at Zathaniel, whom was now very much human. And then Djinjer stopped. The dwarf _ran_ by her, but not before casting a spell on both her and Zathaniel. "Just climb up!" he shouted. Djinjer didn't really know what he meant, but the water did feel more solid than before. She placed her hands on the surface and found, much to her amazement, that it _was_ solid. She and Zathaniel both climbed up onto the surface and like the dwarf, began running to Harbor.

Djinjer wasn't surprised to see Zathaniel reach the Harbor first, with Khael and Brutus beside him. "It wasn' a full on attack!" she heard Captain Stoutfist shout to Zathaniel as she joined them. The captain eyed her hard but his attention turned back to bucket that was being handed to him. "We have to get our people safe and the fires-_LOOK OUT_!"

Zathaniel's cousin, Thorne, was suddenly yanked back from the doorway of his house as the tree beside it came crashing down in front of it. "Emagene!" he shouted. "Ema's still inside!"

"Khael, get to work putting those fires out!" the captain shouted and immediately, the dwarf hopped into action. But Djinjer stood there, staring at the house now blocked off by the tree. Fire had engulfed the second floor and even if several men, including Zathaniel, were trying to remove the fallen tree, Djinjer knew they would never be fast enough.

With the horror-filled cries of Zathaniel's singed and ash covered aunt, Djinjer decided what the best action would be. She dashed through the flood water and around the house, diving into the window. It shattered and even cut some of her thickened flesh, but Djinjer ignored it as she now stood in a smoky inferno. She immediately began coughing and her eyes burned intensely, but Djinjer moved through the house quickly and as low to the floor as possible.

A muffled cough caught her attention and Djinjer quickly raced over to the corner of the house. Djinjercoughed heavily and placed her head against the floor, listening for any sign of Zathaniel's female cousin. She could hear the soft sobs of a girl beneath the floor and from the sounds of it, she wouldn't last much longer. Djinjer quickly stood up and yanked the carpet off of the floor, revealing a secret doorway. She flung it open raced down the steep stairs, only to find the young woman huddled in the corner of the basement, sobbing into her hands.

Not far from the girl was another set of steep stairs and from the looks of it, it lead outside. The only problem was, the wooden doors were smoking and small flecks of burning wood were raining from them. Djinjer quickly made her way over to the girl, whom still hadn't noticed her and picked her up, cradling her in her much larger arms. Of course the girl shrieked at the top of her lung and tried squirming out of her arms, but Djinjer held her tight. "Stop it!" Djinjer growled out. "I'm a friend of your cousin's!"

"Zathaniel would _never _befriend a beast like you!" The girl screamed in a high pitch into her ear. The shriek was worse than the smoke and heat that burned her eyes! Djinjer nearly threw her down. If the girl screamed like that one more time in her far more sensitive ears, she would allow the fires to kill her!

"I'm risking my life to save you, brat! If you want to stay and die, then that's fine by me!" Emagene immediately stopped fighting against her and immediately, she raced back up the steep stairs into the burning house. She and Emagene coughed; the room was heavier with smoke and flames than it was a second ago. Even if it was harder to breathe and see, Djinjer did her best to make her way to the window.

Emagene suddenly let out another high pitched scream and Djinjer couldn't help but drop her. Before she could even shout at the girl, Djinjer let out a howl of pain as a large, burning beam suddenly crashed down upon her back. Djinjer fell to her hands and knees. The pain was incredible, but she refused to let it touch the girl whom was shrouded by Djinjer. "Go!" Djinjer snarled.

"Djinjer!" Zathaniel shouted from outside.

"Go to the window!" Djinjer quickly stood up, throwing the beam off of her. The girl quickly scrambled away to the window, but as Djinjer took another step forward, more of the second floor collapsed, this time, hitting her on her shoulder and knocking her back to the floor.

The girl stopped, and despite the shouting men outside of the window, she turned around. "What are you doing?" Djinjer coughed out.

Emagene, in her fancy, but damaged dress didn't even stop to scream as she grabbed the burning flooring and began shoving it. It barely budged, and the girl backed away, her hands trembling.

And then it happened. Like always, Zathaniel was the savior…but this time, he wasn't _her_ savior. He grabbed up his cousin and dashed back out of the window. For only a second, she looked at the window, expecting to see him again, but he wasn't there. She could see the faces of two men watching, but neither of them attempted to help her.

She was strong….

She could save herself….

Djinjer used the rest of her strength to stand up, throwing the flooring off of her. With her lungs filling with smoke, Djinjer quickly ran to the window and threw herself out of it. "Get her to the water!" someone shouted. But no one touched her. No one would dare touch such a beast. Djinjer, trembling in pain, stood up and slowly walked over to the pool of water. She collapsed into it, screaming in agony as the water covered her wounds.

"I have her!" shouted Khael.

"No! Tend to the others!" shouted a man. "Let the elves care for her!"

Elves?

Djinjer looked up and sure enough, Night Elf Druids and Priests were doing their best to heal the wounded while others helped with the fires. Djinjer looked down at the water…was that her blood?

An elf, wearing an elegant gown, didn't care if the blood water soaked or stained such precious cloth. Instead, she knelt in the water with Djinjer and placed her hands over Djinjer's body. "Your wounds will be healed, but the pain will linger only for a short while."

"What about the others?" she murmured, her eyes locking onto an unmoving body.

"Some souls have already moved on. It's the natural thing to do. I'm afraid Menethil Harbor's people have suffered a great loss today. There," the elf stood up, but she had been right. While the air may not have hurt her wounds anymore, there was still some dull pain. Djinjer slowly got to her feet. "Recover well, worgen."

Djinjer ignored the elf as she stumbled forward, her eyes locked on the unmoving feet of a child. She grabbed the overturned wagon and though it took some effort, she tossed it aside, revealing the child in whole. Djinjer fell to her knees, staring at the dead girl. The little girl's eyes were closed and most of her body was red and blistered. Most of her hair was gone and yet, the little girl still clenched her teddy to her chest. "What about her?" Djinjer asked loudly. "Has her soul moved on?"

The elf's expression showed horror only for a second as she quickly made her way over. Again, she placed her hands over the child's body. A golden light surrounded the girl and the elf's hands…but nothing happened. The elf needn't say anything. Djinjer sighed and stood once more.

"You could have gotten yourself killed. _Look at you_," Djinjer turned to the speaker. The mother of Emagene stood there, her face was stony. "_Look at you_," she repeated. "Your fur…" Djinjer looked at her shoulder, only to see the damaged skin left behind. "You could have died…_she_ could have died…but you saved her." The woman began crying. She walked up to Djinjer, but then backed away"Forgive me…I'm too afraid to touch you."

The woman was pulled into her son's arms and there, she continued crying. Thorne looked at her, but there was no relief or thanks, or even tears in his eyes. He turned away and joined his father, whom held his sobbing daughter. And then there was Zathaniel. He emerged from the burning tavern, carrying two dwarves and a woman upon his back. Behind him, two more men came out carrying more people.

They locked eyes and Djinjer was brought back to another time. He had looked at her just like that as he pulled her into his arms, his slightly parted mouth moving closer to hers. Djinjer looked away from him and slowly turned around, walking further away from them. She made her way out to the bridge where she stared at several overturned sharks.

It would be a shame to waste them. And so Djinjer walked around the bridge and slowly swam out to the nearest shark. No matter how she grabbed the shark, it was useless; she couldn't pull it long distances. Finally, she bit down onto the tail and swam backwards, pulling the shark with her. "You're weak," Zathaniel said as she strained to pull it onto the land. "You need to rest." Even in his human form, Zathaniel grabbed the base of the tail and gave it a hard pull, forcing it on land. "Many of the men are working on gathering the bodies…just beyond the bridge is a small graveyard."

Djinjer released the shark, and Zathaniel pulled it the rest of the way. "Zathaniel!" his uncle called out as she sat against the stone wall. "Good thinking…looks like we're having shark stew tonight." He sighed, somehow looking older and paler. "You may wish to speak to Thorne. They just found Violette."

"Is she?" Zathaniel was answered with a nod. "I don't know if he wants to be bothered by me now…_you_ may want to talk to him."

"I think it might be best if you leave him alone," said Zathaniel's aunt, joining her husband. "Emagene is with Karl."

The flapping of wings caught their attention and everyone looked up. More Night Elves on hippogryphs were arriving, carrying much needed supplies. "What exactly happened?" Zathaniel asked.

"It was the dragons. No one can say if Deathwing was with them or not…it happened too fast, but it looks like they wanted to scare us rather than kill us. Having dealt with dragons since I got here, I know for a fact that if they wanted us dead, they would have killed _all_ of us. They didn't even pass more than once, they just blew fire and kept moving." Thorne cast her a glance.

They were quiet for a while, then his aunt murmured, "The men will be too busy to take care of these sharks. I'll pass the word to the women and maybe we can gather something up and get to cooking. We'll need more than one shark, though. They aren't that big."

"They're still young," Zathaniel murmured. "That's why they're in such shallow water. I can handle it." He glanced at Djinjer, whom closed her eyes.

"Is she okay?" his aunt asked.

"Other than being in a bit of pain and physically exhausted, I think so. She'll need some clothes…I give her any minute now and she'll be in her human body." As if commanding it, Djinjer exhaled and now sat there as a human. "What did I tell you?"

The silence only seemed to amplify the pain in her shoulder and back. Slowly she cracked open her eyes and once more, looked at her scarred shoulder. It looked even worse in her human body. And then Djinjer noticed something that would have made any woman in the line of duty chuckle: her bra strap had been completely burned off. She didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed, as it revealed far more of her flesh than she would have liked. Even half conscious, she grabbed the cloth that barely covered her breast and pulled it up, leaving her hand there. Djinjer let out a groan and then closed her eyes again.

"…I can't believe…that this innocent _girl_ is that beast." And his uncle placed what Djinjer assumed was his jacket over her. "Emafaire…find _something_ for her, please. And alert the women."

By the time she became conscious again, night had fallen. Several torches had been lit in a circle and most women were crowded around large cauldrons. The stench of burnt wood was joined by the foul stench of blood and rotting seafood. Djinjer stood up, surprised to find herself in a simple linen gown.

Slowly she moved the fabric aside to look at her new scar, only to find that not only was she garbed in new under clothing, but the scars were nearly flesh color and didn't look new at all. The wonders of magic never ceased to amaze her.

She inhaled deeply, and though the smells upset her stomach, something else lingered in the air and it smelled _delicious_. Djinjer walked over to the circle of women, rubbing at her eyes. "The beast has awoken!" giggled out Emagene. The women turned to her, all of them falling silent.

"H-how are you feeling?" Emafaire asked her softly, clearing her throat.

"Fine," Djinjer replied in a dull, half asleep voice. It almost seemed to shock the women more. What did they think? That she would growl and bark out her answer? "Where are the elves?"

"They left only a moment ago," said a dwarf female.

"And the men?" Djinjer asked, noticing none of them where anywhere around.

"They're still digging graves," replied Emagene. Djinjer felt an immediate wave of guilt as she noticed the scars on the girl's hands. As hungry as she was, Djinjer suddenly felt nauseated. The women, nor Djinjer, said anything as she walked away. Djinjer made her way to the entrance of Menethil Harbor, gazing out into the Wetlands. Just across the bridge, Djinjer could see more lit torches.

The torches illuminated the now much larger graveyard. Even from where she stood, Djinjer could see the men standing with their heads down. After a short moment, they gathered up the torches and then began walking in her direction. Djinjer moved aside, waiting patiently to see Zathaniel.

Each man that passed her was sweaty, covered in dirt, and looked incredibly forlorn. And then there he was, but as their eyes met, Djinjer gasped. Elijah almost seemed to have appeared from no where, holding her tightly in his arms. He rested his head against her newly scarred shoulder and…began sobbing.

Djinjer hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, questioning Zathaniel with her eyes. Though obviously exhausted, Zathaniel approached her, crouching down by the small pool of water. He didn't say anything as wiped himself down with a cloth he had soaked. "Give us a moment?" he finally asked as he stood up. Elijah nodded against her, wiping at her eyes. She and Zathaniel both watched him walk over to Brutus and Pooch.

"What's wrong?"

But again, he didn't say anything. Instead, Zathaniel grabbed her wrist and began pulling her away from everyone. They crossed the Captain and Khael, they crossed the still smoking houses and Inn and finally, they came to the docks. Though signed, the docks were still firmly in tact. When the two finally stood at the end of the dock, Zathaniel turned to her.

"Every time you show up in my life, something huge always happens." At first she was taken aback by that one sentence, but then, as he slowly grinned, Djinjer relaxed. "Well," he sighed and sat down. "That's a second home I have to leave behind."

"Why?"

"Time for me to move on," he replied with a shrug. Djinjer sat beside him. "I connected with my relatives…but it's time for me to move on. I look at you, Djinjer, and I see that you've grown. I look back at myself and…I'm trying to recapture something I lost. You're moving forward…I'm not. So it's time for me to pick up my guns and swords…get back out there."

Djinjer didn't say anything as she stared at him. And then, when he looked at her and cocked a brow, she snorted. "That certainly came out of nowhere."

He chuckled, "Maybe. It's just, today…I felt like I was reliving Gilneas all over again. Most of us were timid back then. Hell, you were constantly frightened and getting yourself hurt. Now, you're charging into the action…and still getting yourself hurt." The two laughed softly. "But in all seriousness, Djinjer, I know if Liam were still here, he would have jumped in that building, too. Worgen or not. Then again, he would have connected with family and then continued moving on."

Djinjer placed her hand on his shoulder. He only wore a muscles shirt, his pants, and his boots. "Normally I would say you're being too hard on yourself but you're completely right, you know."

"Am I?" he asked with a smile.

Djinjer nodded. "The Zathaniel I knew wouldn't be afraid to show people what he really is, nor would he hide behind fancy clothes and relatives." Zathaniel didn't reply as he stared at her. It was her that looked away, out into the waters. "My gear is _still_ down there."

"Don't worry about it. You'll come with me to Theramore Isle. We'll get you new things there." But when Djinjer didn't reply, Zathaniel cupped her chin and tilted it up. "Right?"

She sighed heavily. "I came here to find you, yes, but…I also have…or _had_ reports to go to the Arathi Highlands." Zathaniel started laughing. "You really did lose everything down there, didn't you?"

Djinjer nodded. "Not anything hugely important. My map, my hearth stone, a few of those _disgusting_ potions," she shuddered, "and some gold. I think I'll miss the gold the most."

Zathaniel looked over his shoulder. "We might be able to get you some replacements…either here, or at the Grove. I don't know how bad they were hit."

And then it dawned on her. She gasped loudly, "Is that why Elijah's here?"

Any sign of happiness or laughter was completely erased from his face. "Yes and no," he replied and without waiting for her to ask anymore questions, Zathaniel quickly began explaining. "The Grove was hit, as well…but I know the Night Elves reacted very quickly. Still, some people were killed-and not all of them by fire. Elijah was caught in one of the buildings and the roof collapsed in on him, crushing him. Djinjer…it killed him."

Djinjer froze, but Zathaniel continued explaining. "His soul hadn't moved on, so when he was resurrected, he came back knowing very well what death feels like. When he came here, he cried for nearly twenty minutes and revealed far more than I knew about him. Turns out, he's just a kid."

"What?" she asked. Djinjer looked over her shoulder. The light from the torches were brighter now.

"He revealed to me that he lied about his age to join the army. I know he looks older than what he really is, but he's only seventeen, Djinjer. If I had found out when he was under my command, I would have made sure he _never_ saw battle." He shrugged. "Nothing I can do about it now. With some rest, he'll be able to move on. Is he supposed to join you?"

"No," Djinjer shook her head, turning her eyes to the stars. "He was specifically sent here."

Zathaniel didn't reply and Djinjer didn't mind. After the time she had spent away from Zathaniel, it was nice to just sit beside him. When the two of them were together, _something_ was always happening. She had thought, when they were safe and far from the dangers of Gilneas, that he would always be around and perhaps, even if they were just friends, they could get to know one another on a better level. That didn't happen and now Djinjer knew, it probably never would.

"Does it hurt?" Zathaniel murmured.

"Does what hurt?" Zathaniel placed a hand on her newly scarred shoulder. "No," she whispered. "It doesn't hurt."

Hesitantly, her eyes met his and in that moment, she remembered exactly why she wanted to find him. Her heart trembled as he slipped two fingers beneath the cloth of her dress and moved it aside, revealing her shoulder. "It looks awful." When she didn't reply, he continued to say, "You seem different, you know."

She shrugged and looked away, biting her bottom lip. "Well," he fixed her dress and stood up, "we better get some stew before it's all gone."

As Djinjer stood up, she looked at Zathaniel. He was filthy and he looked tired. "Promise me," she murmured, "No matter how far apart we are, we'll keep in touch. We'll write and we'll try to see each other as much as possible."

He nodded, "That's an easy promise to keep, Djinjer. But just remember, I was the one that wrote…you were the one that didn't reply."

Djinjer's eyes widened and she blushed, even more so as he grinned devilishly at her. He let out a throaty chuckle and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Though she literally could not hug him back, the embrace felt nice. She didn't know what it was about this man, but no matter how horrible of a situation they were in, he always made her feel better. She never wanted to lose that.

Once a strong believer that nowhere could be more interesting than Gilneas, Djinjer found herself intrigued and fascinated by each and every new zone she entered. Though the Arathi Highlands was by no means as beautiful as say, Teldrassil, it was still beautiful in its own way. With its light greenish yellow grass and rolling hills, Djinjer couldn't help but feel calm here.

In the Highlands, Djinjer managed to get herself a full set of gear and a much better weapon. She fought against new enemies: ogres and trolls. On top of seeing giant spiders, strange but large birds, raptors of all sizes, Djinjer also got an eyeful of elemental enemies. They were beautiful to look at from afar, but as she quickly learned, they were extremely dangerous.

There was never an entirely safe place in the Highlands. No matter where she stopped to rest, danger was never far from her. If she wasn't facing the dangers of the land, she was facing danger from the Horde. Many of their own soldiers flocked the land and more than once, did she see one in the distance. A Blood Elf. A Forsaken. An Orc. But soon, she was told, she would be facing more than just those races. Soon, she would be facing Tauren and Trolls, in a battle for the Arathi Basin.

Once belonging to the Humans of Arathor, the Arathi Basin stood as a rich and lush basin where many humans held jobs of all sorts. The farms within the basin produced the most lush fruits and vegetables year round. There was also a stable where horses and other animals were raised. In the center stood the building belonging to the blacksmiths, whom created all weapons and armor for the armies of what was once Stromgarde. And all of the blacksmith's ore was mined only yards away at what Djinjer was told, was a deep and rich mine. Overlooking all of the basin was the lumber mill, which played an equally important role to the citizens of Arathi.

But after the human nation of Arathor fell, the basin was left abandoned. It was only recently that the invading Horde and the Alliance began fighting for this rich settlement. At times, the Horde controlled the Basin but no matter what, the Alliance would fight back.

As a new soldier to the Alliance, it was up to her and many others in the area, to fight and take back what rightfully belonged to them. Today, she would be fighting in this battle. With her sword sheathed upon her back, Djinjer grabbed her helmet and walked out of the Alliance base, which had been set up to the north of the basin. She, with many others, stood outside, waiting for the moment that they would attack. Djinjer shook her bangs out of her face and carefully slipped on her helmet. More than ever did she feel prepared to fight against the forces of the Horde. She may have lost Gilneas, but she would not lose their basin.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note:**_ Well, here's the chapter. It was hard to make Arathi Basin seem real, but I think I did an alright job. I mean, it's not very realistic for Horde and Alliance soldiers to fight, constantly get killed over and over, just to throw up some flags into the air =/ As always, for more information about the characters and story, as well as sneak peaks, please search for Djinjer AWorgens Tale on Facebook. :) There you can see pictures and get some profiles of the characters!  
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Standing there in the crowd of Alliance was unnerving. No one spoke. No one said a thing as they all stared intently out towards the Farm. Rumor had it that the Horde were going to attack from just beyond that point. Djinjer strained her ears to hear anything, but all she heard was the whistling of the wind. "You might want to transform," said a male worgen, one whom she truly did not recognize.

Djinjer nodded once and immediately shifted into her true form. Now standing taller, Djinjer _still_ couldn't see anything and even if she had heightened hearing, she _still_ couldn't hear anything. But would she? The basin was in no way small.

Everyone she stood with was beginning to get restless. A few of the Alliance females even sat down, sighing softly. Djinjer eyed a human priest. She had light brown hair, blue eyes, and was so freckled, she looked as if she were tanned. But Djinjer didn't have time to notice everyone. They were a small army of fifteen and every race was there, including one she hadn't seen before: Gnomes. How terrifying it must have been for them, to be included in on a battle. Surely they would fear being trampled….

"Look," a dwarf said, pointing in the distance. She didn't even have to squint. She could see it. Just beyond the farm, an unmistakable blood red flag was being raised into the air. "I want a small group to go to the mines and _defend _it. Same goes for the lumber mill. And whatever you do, do _not_ allow yer soul to pass on. Even if we have to wait until they've ransacked the entire basin, we _will_ be back for ye."

"And if they turn us into Forsaken?" the same priest asked.

"Then by the Light, we shall slay you swiftly," murmured a human male.

"The rest o' us will move to the center. They are bound to try and lay claim to the isle," the dwarf finished. "Worgen," she and the other worgen perked up, "Stay close and fight with _everything_ ye are. For the sake of Refuge Point, we _need_ to capture the basin and hold it for as long as possible. As soon as their numbers decrease and we can hold our bases, we will signal for the workers to come. Is that clear?"

Djinjer looked over her shoulder at the majority of men and few women that were standing there, frightened and waiting for their call.

A deep and loud horn shattered the silence, as did the sound of war drums. Djinjer gasped as the soldiers suddenly pushed past her, as the dwarf blew their own war horn. Djinjer snarled, but quickly picked up the pace behind her comrades. But then they broke up-a few went down to the mines and only _one_ was moving to the mill. Djinjer quickly threw herself onto all fours and ran to catch up to the warlock. He didn't say anything as she ran beside him and continued to say nothing as they made it to the mill. Djinjer didn't need to be all that smart when it came to battle tactics to know that she and the warlock could easily be out numbered. In fact, she was quite certain that what they were doing wasn't too smart, but she couldn't let the warlock go off on his own.

Panting softly, the man walked over to the edge of the cliff and looked down. "They are fighting fiercely," he finally murmured. "Keep your guard up," he told her as she walked over to the edge and looked down at the battle taking place in the center of the isle. "This battle will be ugly. The priests, paladins…you name it, they will be constantly resurrecting the soldiers on _both_ ends. This battle could go on for-augh!"

Djinjer spun around just as the warlock fell to his knees, blood soaking his robes. The thin troll that stood behind him yanked his sword out of the warlock and immediately turned his eyes on Djinjer. But he didn't get the chance to attack. Djinjer gasped as a large bull-like creature roared and slammed it's large hoof on the ground. It threw her off of her feet and dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.

Her warlock companion, however, was by no means finished. Bleeding, the warlock let out a roar of his own and both the rogue and the what appeared to be a warrior were sent running in opposite directions. The warlock quickly clenched a green stone in his hand and to her surprise, it faded into nothingness. Just as quickly, the warlock began reciting some sort of chant and out of _nowhere_ the most demonic being appeared. Towering over the warlock, covered in armor, and wielding an axe that was half of his size was the warlock's demonic companion. It grumbled out something, but quickly rushed forward, attacking the rogue full force.

Djinjer got to her feet and also rushed forward. The warrior may have been a bull-creature, but she was wolf-creature and she wasn't about to let him get the best of her. Djinjer swung quickly, but the warrior blocked and swung with even more strength. She could feel the power of his attacks reverberating through her arms and into her chest, but she was determined, more than ever, to kill this creature and then move onto anything that came her way.

"The rogue is _down_!" shouted the warlock. "Duck!"

Djinjer hunched over just as a green orb smacked into the warrior, sending him running once again. But warlock's demon chased after the warrior, hitting him when it could. At least…she thought the bull-thing was a male. "It's no use! We've lost!" shouted the warlock. "Get out of here!"

"Why?" Djinjer shouted, grabbing a smaller axe from her side and throwing it with all of her might at the creature. To her delight it roared in pain as the axe imbedded itself deep into his newly exposed shoulder. "We're doing fine!"

But as Djinjer glanced over to the warlock, she found that he was completely right. A magnificent red and yellow lynx was now sprinting towards the warlock as a male blood elf fired several arrows; all of them sinking deep into the warlock's already damaged body.

"No!" she shouted and launched herself at the hunter. She was shocked to see him suddenly spring backwards and down the hill, where two more Horde soldiers were making their up.

"When he says run, you run!" a draenei shrieked at her, grabbing her wrist. The draenei was yanking her towards the cliff. The warlock stumbled forward, a green light filling the palm of his hand. From the sky slammed down a meteor that shook the ground violently. From it stood a green, glowing, rock demon, whom took no hesitance in attacking the bull. The bull roared, doing his best to ignore the two demons but the warlock was quickly attacked by the hunter and what appeared to be a paladin.

"Jump!" the draenei pulled her, but Djinjer didn't move. It wasn't in her nature to abandon the warlock, whom was now lying dead in front of the Horde's feet. The draenei gasped and suddenly, she was engulfed by a blue bubble. A water elemental appeared from no where and froze the Horde soldiers to the ground. And then, with her arms around Djinjer's waist, she threw them off of the cliff. Djinjer expected to fall, but instead, she and the draenei carefully and slowly fell down and landed in the moat surround the small central isle.

"When someone says '_jump'_ and they are on your side, you _jump_!" the draenei hissed out, grabbing Djinjer's wrist as they climbed up the sloping hill of the blacksmith's.

"Watch it!" shouted the human priest, engulfing them in a bubble. "I've got you!" She took a deep breath and deep from within her, she let out a true shriek. Djinjer didn't have time to look and see what the priest was doing. Instead, she quickly got to her feet, and followed the mage, whom had summoned her elemental again.

A female orc warrior slammed into the mage, sending her skidding onto the ground. Of course the elemental began protecting its master, but Djinjer stepped in as well. The orc, it seemed, was so focused on hurting the mage that she didn't even notice Djinjer.

For once, Djinjer felt like she had the upper hand. She swung her sword quickly, with strength and expertise. The expression on the she-orc's face was that of sheer panic. More than once had Djinjer's attacks gone through, damaging the orc's frail armor or sometimes even shattering it. The orc kicked her away, but gasped and howled in pain as a ball of fire slammed into her face. Shaking her head and wiping it free of burning embers, Djinjer attacked the orc once more, roaring as she lunged forward. It didn't take as much strength as she would have thought, to sink her sword through the orc's stomach, barely covered in chain mail.

Djinjer yanked her sword out, and the orc, swung once more, sputtering blood and glaring hatefully at her. Easily deflecting the attack, Djinjer stepped back once and raised her sword high, ready to finish off the orc. Two things happened at once: a blazing heat filled her back, causing her to yelp in pain and the draenei mage finished off the orc before Djinjer could even fathom that they were yet again under attack.

"Their numbers are weakening!" shouted the same very gnome that she had saw earlier.

"Don't you even think about it!" the draenei mage immediately began combating the Horde mage. Djinjer shook herself, but quickly glanced around her. The soldiers were quickly making their way _back_ to the farm, where many of the Alliance soldiers had gathered.

And then she saw him.

The warlock that was dead only _seconds_ ago was now quickly coming up behind the single Horde mage. But behind him was none other than the hunter that had slain him only minutes ago. Ignoring the mages' bright battle, Djinjer dashed off towards the warlock. He gave her a look of confusion as she passed him, but apparently both saw and understood what was going on. A demonic dog-like creature was now running with her towards the hunter.

The hunter whistled and again, the lynx appeared, engaging in combat with the demonic dog. Djinjer rushed the hunter, whom once more hopped away from her. She grinned, having expected this maneuver and once more, charged him again. This time, he had _no one_ to protect him. This time, he literally dropped his bow and withdrew his own sword and began fighting her.

Though he did have a strong attack, it wasn't enough. Djinjer was too quick and far too strong for him to keep fighting her. The hunter began backing up in a feeble attempt to save himself from his imminent death, but Djinjer continued attacking ferociously. Just as she was certain she was going to make the killing blow, the elf grinned.

Djinjer felt the metal plate under her foot. She heard the click it made as she stepped on it. She had just looked down at the trap she was standing on when it suddenly exploded, sending her crashing to the ground, her entire leg aching in pain. Djinjer coughed through the smoke, crawling back up the hill. The elf, as she looked over her shoulder, was already far away and continuously moving. A golden orb hit her three times, erasing the pain she felt.

"How the hell are you alive?" Djinjer barked out to the warlock.

He grinned sheepishly, but it was the draenei that answered. "He _is_ a warlock," she laughed softly. "He used a soul stone."

Djinjer was about to ask what a soul stone was whenever the warlock held out what looked like a broken glass orb.

"You three stay here!" the male paladin called out. "You two, come with me!"

"Good luck!" Djinjer called out to the warlock, mage, and gnome.

Djinjer followed the paladin over to the edge of the road, where they eyed the battle taking place over the mines. "A little help?" he asked.

"We're just going to drop in?" the priest asked, her eyes filled with worry. When the paladin answered her with a nod, she shrugged. "I don't normally do the healing. Time to get down to business, then." Her eyes clamped shut and she shuddered for a moment, raising her trembling hands to her face. Her eyes then snapped open, revealing nothing but darkness. Her body was suddenly engulfed in shadows and quickly, she pulled several feathers out from the bag at her waist. She raised the three feathers to her mouth and blew.

Each feather disappeared and at the same time, Djinjer yelped. She was suddenly sprung into the air and because she took a step back, she was also now falling down into the mines. The combating soldiers of both the Horde and the Alliance didn't seem to notice the three of them gliding down towards them. In fact, as soon as she neared two soldiers: an orc shaman and a night elf druid, the druid's stare gave her away.

The orc looked over his shoulder, his eyes immediately locking onto her flailing frame. The orc snarled something in his language, which Djinjer was pretty sure was a curse. He turned around and began casting but at that very moment, Djinjer suddenly slammed into him. He grunted and tried shoving her off of him, but something snapped inside of Djinjer. In a split second, Djinjer recovered a memory from long ago; a memory from when she was still feral.

Without even thinking about what she was doing, Djinjer lurched forward, her teeth sinking into the orc's muscled arm. He roared in pain but Djinjer continued shaking her head back and forth. His blood tasted _delicious_!

That thought alone brought Djinjer back to her senses just long enough for the shaman to attack her. He quickly got to his feet, but it was of no use. The druid was on him, taking a page out of her book. The large black cat bit at the orc's neck and dug its claws through his leather and into his chest. Djinjer got to her feet, licking at her teeth. She glared at the orc and growled, pulling her sword from her sheath. The druid quickly threw itself away from the orc as Djinjer rushed forward, slamming her sword into his chest.

The orc sputtered, fell to his knees, but then-from out of nowhere-Djinjer was slammed to the ground. She looked up only to see a large rock elemental. It raised its rocky fists up into the air and slammed them on the ground. Djinjer barely had enough time to roll out of the way. She quickly rushed around the elemental, dodging another attack and grabbed the sword from the shaman, whom was trying to heal himself. Yanking her sword out of him was painful enough, but then Djinjer swung it with all of her strength. His headless body fell to the ground, spewing blood onto her feet and immediately, the elemental disappeared.

The flag of the mine was quickly being raised into the air as two more soldiers of the Horde fell. When it was raised, Djinjer was amongst one of the soldiers that returned to the central isle.

As soon as they reached the isle, a male gnome perked up and said, "We have the mine, the stables, the farm, the black smith. They have the lumber mill and are holding out up there. I say we get five more soldiers here and put guards everywhere."

"No," the dwarf said stubbornly. "We have to drive 'em out. With most of their numbers up there, they'll only attack the second _we're_ vulnerable. If ye don't want to help us get them out of _our_ basin, then ye can very well leave!"

"Look!" chirped out the female gnome.

Djinjer turned around to see what the gnome was pointing at. The very orc shaman that she had decapitated was now running as quick as he could towards the human mineworkers.

"Quick! Somebody kill that orc!"

Djinjer and the other worgen didn't hesitate. They threw themselves onto all fours and quickly began dashing after the orc, whom once more summoned another ally. This one was a large fire elemental. Together, they continued rushing towards the panicking workers.

Djinjer and the other worgen pushed themselves to run even faster. The two of them crashed into the orc. Djinjer couldn't tell who hit where or who tumbled over each other. None of that mattered as she and the other worgen did their best to scratch, bite, and kill the orc.

He grunted, he groaned in pain; the two of them were smacked and hit by the fiery elemental's giant hands, but _still_, the pain didn't matter! Djinjer's desire to protect their people was stronger than any pain she felt. And just like that, it was done and over with. The orc lay dead, yet again, and the elemental disappeared.

Panting, she and the male worgen stood up, staring down at the orc. She wondered if he would stay dead this time. She could see the very faint line on his neck, from where she had decapitated him.

"Th-thank you." Djinjer looked up at the human, whom was visibly shaken by the near attack from the orc. Djinjer nodded at him.

"Are you both okay?" panted out the very same shadow priest from before.

"Yes," the worgen grumbled out. "You should stay here with me, just in case another tries to attack," he directed at the priest. "You," Djinjer looked at him, "should get back over there. Find out what's going on and get back to me."

She didn't like being ordered around by someone she didn't know and wanted to snap at him, but then he let out a wolfish grin, "Please." Again, Djinjer nodded and once more, made her way back to the central isle. As soon as she crossed the bridge, the Alliance soldiers burst into cheers.

Djinjer needn't ask what was going on. Even from where she stood, Djinjer could see the undead holding up the white flag. The Horde numbers were on the move again, but this time, they were leaving. Djinjer could see two hunters with their bows ready to fire should the Alliance attack again. She wondered what they would do about the others, the orc female that _still_ lay dead near the main building of the isle and the orc shaman that had both the worgen and priest standing guard over it. Would the Horde come back for them? They didn't exactly seem like the type that would turn back for their dead. Then again, she knew little about them.

Djinjer looked over her shoulder at the priest and worgen. He held his hand up, as if to say he understood and she didn't need to let him know anything. And then her eyes lowered to where the orc _had_ been. Djinjer quickly looked around at the other orc and she, too, was suddenly gone. "How do they do that?" she murmured more to herself than anyone else.

"Like everything else, magic. It's hard to explain," the draenei mage said, placing her hand on Djinjer's shoulder. "But when you experience it, you'll fully understand."

"I hope to never experience it," Djinjer replied honestly.

"Maybe you'll be lucky," she smiled. The draenei was very pretty and very elegant. The draenei's skin was a light blue and her curly hair was a dark blue. "My name is Nephytari. A pleasure to meet you and fight beside you."

Djinjer smiled, which always looked awkward as a worgen. "Djinjer."

"It's been too long since we've captured the basin," said the human paladin. "Once the Horde scum is gone, we shall assign guard posts. You will stand there as long as you have to. Is that clear?"

When the last two Horde soldiers left the basin, they were assigned three to a post. She, Nephytari, and the female gnome stood guard at the farm. Many of the workers were working straight into the night, using lanterns to illuminate the fields. The gnome, whom she found out as named Bergie Rustgear, was now resting in the medium sized farmhouse. Next, it was Nephytari's turn to rest, followed by Djinjer's.

Djinjer knew that the basin was magical, but she didn't realize _how_ magical. The crop that the farmers had planted earlier in the day was already being harvested and a new crop was being planted.

"Tauren? That's an…appropriate name," Djinjer chuckled out in her human form.

Nephytari giggled. "I agree. Not all of them are hostile, you know. In fact, the Tauren try harder than any other Horde race to make peace. So…we covered Orcs, Trolls, Undead, Elves…Tauren…_oh_! I _forget_ that they have a new alliance as well! With those explosive loving _goblins_! I'm surprised we didn't see any today."

Djinjer sighed. "This is all so strange. You can't imagine how mind boggling all of this is."

Nephytari smiled at her, then turned her brilliantly blue glowing eyes to the sky. "I think I do understand," she nearly whispered. "Granted, this is your home planet, so it's a little different."

Djinjer suddenly blushed. "I forget that your kind isn't from here. I learned a little about your people when I stayed in Teldrassil." Nephytari nodded, acknowledging Djinjer, but didn't say anything else. Djinjer watched the workers for a bit, before looking out into the distance. With how peaceful the basin seemed now, it was hard to imagine that a fierce battle had taken place only hours ago.

Djinjer leaned back against the wooden house. When Nephytari didn't say anything, Djinjer allowed her mind to wander. She and Zathaniel had salvaged what they could from his dwarven home, which wasn't much. After that, Zathaniel had left Menethil Harbor without showing his family his true form once. She, on the other hand, traveled north and would continue traveling north.

Already, Djinjer had gotten her next orders, which would take her straight to the Hinterlands. She sighed softly and looked up at the stars. When she had decided to join the Army of Gilneas, she had never expected it would be like this. The most Gilnean Soldiers ever did was _possibly_ fight off ogres, sometimes spiders. The ettin rarely bothered them and so they rarely bothered the ettin. She had never, in all of her life, thought she would be traveling from region to region, always fighting, always _killing_. Part of her was already tired of this aspect of her life and yet, when she thought about what she _would_ be doing had nothing changed.

Every morning, she would wake up under the flight of stairs in her house. She would have a small breakfast, get cleaned and geared up. She would then go to the city and probably relieve a guard, taking his or her place, where she would stand or sit for _hours_ every day. When she compared the life that she had to the life she would have had, Djinjer couldn't find it in her to complain. Everything happened for a reason…and she didn't know if her life would _ever_ calm down.


	28. Chapter 28

**Note:** _Okay! So that took way longer than I thought it would. I wrote out THREE different chapters! Two of which revolved around Zathaniel, but I really didn't like them and instead, came up with this. With Brewfest having just passed in game, I decided I wanted to do something a bit more festive...and it turned out to be longer than I wanted it to, but that's fine. The next chapter will definitely be up quicker than this one was. And there's bound to be awesome drama!  
_

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With the back of her gloved hand, Djinjer wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her entire upper body ached, but it was a good ache. It was the very type of aching that always made her remember that she was _resting_ and she was _far_ from the dangers that lurked out in Azeroth.

In the life of an adventurer, it was often recommended to take time off, to relax and socialize. Djinjer didn't ever have that many people to socialize with. There was Valisilwen and Qiralyn, of course…but it was hard to catch either one of them when _they_ were taking time off, if they ever did. Djinjer always remembered being worn out of her mind, following Qiralyn all over Darkshore and the elf never seemed a bit tired.

There was also Nephytari, the Draenei mage she had met while doing her tasks in Arathi Highlands. In fact, it was Nephytari that had suggested Djinjer take some time off and it was also Nephytari that created a portal straight into Ironforge for her.

Portals…They were by far Djinjer's most favorite way to travel. There was nothing like stepping into the comforting embrace of a city, after a hard day of combat.

Djinjer carefully grasped the newly forged weapon, submerging it into a vat of cold water. As she waited for the blade to cool completely, her thoughts returned to the only people she had really interacted with. Besides Val, Qira, and Nephy…there was _him_. Officer Jaxon drove her _crazy_. He seemed to _always_ find her when she went to Stormwind and _always _pressured her for another date. The Officer seemed to have made it his duty to make sure she stayed in the best of rooms or beds, _if_ she stayed at an Inn at all. It was…nothing short of creepy.

But then there was Elijah! Elijah was quickly becoming her best friend. He often made sure to write to her and plan his breaks with her. They often made their way to the same city and though Elijah was never really the same after the dragon attacks in the Wetlands, he was still very full of life.

Then there was Zathaniel…

Djinjer actually sighed.

The two of them had promised to meet up. He swore he'd visit her. He swore that once he managed to find another home, he'd invite her over. The only promise that Zathaniel Gilneau seemed to be keeping was his every-other-week-letters. …It was really the only thing she would look forward to. Once, she had gotten a letter right in front of Officer Jaxon, whom turned several shades of pink and red whenever he found out it was from a "boy." The memory still made her laugh, because in all of her time of knowing the officer…he had never been so tongue-tied.

"Sweatin' up o' storm thar, Djinjer!" Djinjer looked down beside her. The faded blond haired dwarf, with a magnificently braided beard, grinned up at her.

"You're damn right I am, Bengus! Look at what's around us! I'm not used to this!" In the very center of the city was a great, open area called: The Great Forge. Hot lava was slowly pouring down around the and _all_ around them, just below them, was a moat of lava. The dwarves, she noticed, weren't sweating at all. Even some of the humans, gnomes, and other races got used to the heat. But worgen? Worgen always seemed to just _melt_ standing here.

"Yer not sweatin' cause o' the lava, yer sweatin' cause o' mah sexay beard!" Snorted out Rotgath, an apprentice of Bengus.

"Don't ya go spreadin' tha' around!" snarled the youngest of the dwarves: Groum. His black beard was the shortest and most simple of the dwarves. "She's obviously sweatin' cause I'm right here!" He flexed towards her, which made all of them chuckle.

"That's exactly why!" Djinjer retorted. "His muscles make a wench melt from across the city! Go through several panties myself just standing here!" The dwarves erupted in laughter. If there was one thing Djinjer picked up from these dwarves, it was the humor-which wasn't what anyone expected from a very human-looking-young woman.

As the laughing died down, Bengus gloved up and carefully pulled her new weapon from the water. He brought it over to the nearest anvil and began inspecting it. "Mhm," he muttered, then raised the blade eye level, running this gloved thumb along the edge.

"Is it good?" she asked, bending over.

"Yup!"

"Good," she lowered her voice, "You know how I like things long and hard."

The oldest of the Blacksmith Trainers, Grumnus, spit his ale out all over Rotgath, laughing heartily as he slapped the anvil. Though blushing, Bengus laughed as he placed the sword back down on the anvil. "Ye skill is improvin' greatly, Djinjer." Thurgrum Deepforge, the supply man, quickly came over and began measuring it. He walked back to this supply crate and pulled out a sheath.

"That one's gorgeous," Djinjer replied.

"Jus' like my eyes!" He replied, batting his eyelashes. Again, they laughed.

A few more jokes were shared as she gathered her supplies and threw them over her shoulder. One final roar of laughter later and Djinjer was making her way to her favorite tavern, Bruuk's Corner.

"'Lo, ther!" Bruuk waved. "Edris is upstairs." Djinjer nodded at him, and nodded at the female gladiator. Tisa Martine was often found in Bruuk's Corner. It was the only tavern, according to Edris, that Tisa was accepted in. With her greasy blonde hair plastered to her head and held in place by a band, Tisa wore the same expression on her face no matter what: a scowl. She wore white and blue armor, and never removed her sword-nor her shield.

It was also widely known that Tisa was interested in the same sex, which made Djinjer even more curious about her. Bruuk one day told her that Tisa hated the way Djinjer stared, but she couldn't help it. Was Tisa someone she would have been attracted to? She didn't know anymore. Having her sexuality suddenly change was still confusing for Djinjer.

Her thoughts shifted to the young lady dwarf, sitting upstairs. Edris _hated_ working for her father's tavern. She didn't exactly hide that fact. "Same as usual?" Edris asked, with a very non-dwarf accent. Edris was born to a human woman and raised in Stormwind for most of her life. She and her mother moved to Ironforge only after her parents reconnected. There was some sort of tragic tale behind their family, but Djinjer had never heard the entire story.

"Yep," Djinjer replied, yawning as she collapsed onto a chair at one of the empty tables. Edris shuffled over to the corner of the room, got out a glass, squeezed some lemon in it, and walked over to Djinjer. "Thanks."

Edris nodded and returned to her own seat. Neither of them spoke. They rare did beyond Djinjer's order of water with lemon. Often, Djinjer would leave her a tip-if only because the poor dwarf looked absolutely bored out of her mind. Djinjer downed half of the glass very easily, then moved to the balcony to finish it. There were Stormwind Officials everywhere, putting up posters, handing out papers. She had never seen anything like it.

"Hey Edris?"

"Yeah?" she replied dully.

"What's going on?"

Edris joined her side, looking over the balcony. She sighed and leaned against the stone railing, which was frighteningly short for Djinjer. The lady dwarf chewed her bottom lip for a moment before looking up at Djinjer. Djinjer couldn't help but think that Edris was very pretty-dwarf or not-which was probably the reason her father was so strict about keeping her in the tavern. "Children's Week."

"What's that?" she asked, sipping her water.

"It's some charity thing they do each year to help the orphanages out." Djinjer felt a twinge of interest. "With all sorts of people being adventurers, either they get killed and leave a kid behind _or_ they don't have relatives to leave their kids with when they go out to duty. So! They bring their children to the orphanage. It takes a lot of money to make sure they're all clothed, fed...taken care of."

"Well, that's…nice, I guess."

Edris nodded. "It's the one true week when _all_ adventurers can just leave behind what they're doing and not be charged with an Absent Without Leave. Those that have children take their kids away for the week or bring them home. Those that don't, they often donate their money and time. Some just take the time off. …Wish I could have some time off."

Djinjer grinned and finished her water. "You know," Edris continued. "You should check it out. I mean, you're new to all of this…and from the sounds of it, you haven't seen many of the festivals."

"I haven't seen any of the festivals," she admitted. "I've always been to busy."

"Yeah," she sighed heavily. "Just drop everything. Stop hanging out with those filthy old dwarves and go to Stormwind. Check it out…you won't be sorry."

Djinjer nodded. "I just hate that tram…"

"Tell me about it," Edris murmured as she made her way back to her chair.

Djinjer continued staring at the woman handing out papers and talking to anyone that passed by. A week long break sounded nice…and it wouldn't hurt to check this orphanage out. Yep. She was going to do it!

Djinjer walked back into the tavern, left Edris her gold and empty glass, and made her way out of the tavern. "Have fun!" Edris called from the balcony as Djinjer walked towards the woman. Djinjer waved back at Edris and smiled as she approached the lady.

The woman with light brown hair turned to her with a smile, handing Djinjer a sheet of blue paper. "Support the Stormwind Orphanage with Children's Week!"

Djinjer accepted the paper, reading over it. "So all I have to do, is go to Stormwind's Orphanage and show them this?"

"You can just show up and everything will be taken care of!" When Djinjer didn't say anything, the woman handed her stack of papers to a man and continued to say, "It's for a very good cause!"

"I'm sure it is," Djinjer replied with a smile, folding the paper up. "Thank you." Djinjer waved and began making her way to the tram, but not before she stopped and looked over her shoulder.

The woman, with her shoulder length light brown hair stopped and stared at her bug-eyed. "Are you following me?" Djinjer asked, feeling slightly unnerved.

The woman blushed crimson and cleared her throat, "I'm…heading to Stormwind. Tram's that way."

"Oh!" Djinjer laughed, and so did the woman-but nervously. "Guess that means we're going together." They continued to walk in silence. The tram, like always, was cold, dark, and eerily quiet. She sat on one bench while the priest awkwardly sat on the furthest seat away from her. Even in the darkness of the tram station, Djinjer could see that the woman was still blushing.

When the tram arrived the priest nearly jumped off of her seat. She quickly made her way to the middle and just to toy with the woman, so did Djinjer. Djinjer had only taken the tram once and thoroughly didn't like it. Because of this, she immediately grabbed onto the hanging handle bar, but kept her eyes on the priest, whom was now standing on the opposite edge.

Just as the tram gave a jerk, both she and the woman gasped. "Watch it!" Djinjer shouted as she grabbed the woman by the front of her robe and yanked her onto the tram. Had she been a _second_ late, the woman would have fell and would have most likely injured herself.

"Thanks," she breathed out, clenching the frame of the cart. The woman looked away and sighed, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

Djinjer cleared her throat, "What's your name anyway?" she was hoping that if she was nice, the woman would be less embarrassed.

"Well!" It was as if a switched suddenly turned on. The woman smiled and perked up, "_My_ name is Neozic! But if you want to find me legally on paper, my name is Jennifer White!" She stuck her tongue out, "Blegh! What an awful name! But! The orphanage didn't know what else to name me!"

"You're…from the orphanage?"

"Yep! Was brought there as a baby and was there until I started my studies in the Priesthood! Or is it Priest_ess_-hood?" Neozic shrugged and smiled. "That's why I volunteer to spread the world about Children's Week. I had the same sponsor for years when I was little…and then I met all sorts of people. I knew the life of a traveler was for me! And then-"

With Neozic now relaxed, she talked nonstop and often had to stop and gasp for air. As the tram came to a stop, she and Neozic left the cart, only for Neozic to _just now _ask, "Where are you from? I haven't heard an accent like that in my entire life!"

"Gilneas," she answered shortly.

"Gilneas? W-o-w! I've heard a lot about the people from Gilneas! Are you a normal Gilnean or a Worgen? I don't think I'd like being a Worgen-wait, I'll show you the way!" And so Djinjer was stuck following Neozic, whom continued prattling on. She immediately got the feeling that something was off about this priest when she was tripped accidentally by a dwarf. Neozic grumbled and made a strange hissing sound, then quickly spun around and began laughing it off. Finally, and not soon enough, they found the orphanage.

"Hello, Jennifer! How did it go at Ironforge?"

"My _name _is Neozic, now!" The Matron sighed and smiled. "It went well! In fact, I have someone with me! They're ready for an orphan!"

"I don't know if I have enough money to sponsor an orphan!" Djinjer whispered to Neozic. Neozic shook her head and all Djinjer could think was, maybe sponsorship had nothing to do with money.

"You know, we don't have many orphans left-as odd as that sounds. But," the Matron looked Djinjer over and smiled even brighter, "I think I have the perfect orphan for this girl." The matron pulled a scroll of paper from behind her and scribbled a name down, then asked, "Name?"

"Er…Djinjer Foreman," Djinjer murmured.

"Gilnean, I see." She tucked the scroll in her belt again and walked over to the door, "Fen! …Fennel! You have a sponsor! …Put your shoes on!"

From the door sprang out a girl that caught Djinjer off guard. She had to be around nine or ten. She was skinny and wore patched up overalls. The orphan was heavily freckled and very much a carrot top. Her short, thin, red hair was pulled into sloppy pony tails. She looked up at Djinjer with her big brown eyes and smiled. "Hi! I'm Fennel, but everyone calls me Fen!"

Djinjer looked at Neozic, then the Matron. What was she supposed to do with the child? Sensing her confusion, the Matron quickly began explaining. "You'll be taking the child in for a week…you'll show her around, perhaps to places she hasn't seen before-"

"Like the Exodar and Teldrassil!" Fennel chirped out, bouncing in place.

"-and you have to take care of her. This week is all about orphans having a temporary family!"

And before she had time to tell them there had been a mistake, that she couldn't take care of a child-the Matron and the Priest both returned to the orphanage and began tending to the younger children inside. Djinjer looked down at the girl, who beamed up at her.

"What's your name?"

"Djinjer," she quickly answered.

Fennel laughed and latched onto Djinjer's wrist. "Isn't that funny? Fennel and Djinjer! We're both named after spices! And we're both redheads! We could be sisters if it wasn't for the way you talk."

"What's wrong with the way that I talk?"

"Nothing, it just sounds so funny! You don't say Djinj_er_ you say Djinj_ah_! I wish I talked like that." Fennel flicked Djinjer's bracer with her middle finger. "Are you a warrior?"

Though she wanted to groan, Djinjer didn't. She sighed softly and nodded. "So what do you want to do first?"

"_CANDY_!"

Taking care of an orphan wasn't that bad. Fennel often led the way and Djinjer was relieved to see that many other Adventurers had the same bewildered, confused, awkward look that she had. They, too, were being pulled around by children. It was absolutely adorable to see some humans, elves, and draenei carrying around dwarf and gnome children. And in the same aspect, Djinjer felt awful for the gnomes and dwarves that had to deal with the other children. Though…there weren't many Draenei children and the elf children seemed nonexistent.

And then her eyes caught onto female Adventurers that were standing together, gazing down at little bundles in their arms. Temporarily adopting a child was scary enough, but temporarily adopting babies? That seemed crazy.

By the end of the afternoon, Fennel had three different ice cream cones (as did Djinjer), cotton candy, and had gone fishing. Djinjer had given up trying to fish, but Fennel did wonderful and caught several big ones. They, as Fennel demanded, were for dinner. If there was one thing Djinjer wasn't that great at…it was cooking. So as not to poison Fennel, Djinjer brought the fish over to the nearest tavern, where it was cooked and served to them.

"This is _so_ cool!" Fennel said as she tucked her napkin into her shirt. Djinjer looked around. It was probably the most festive she had ever seen the tavern. There were balloons and plush animals everywhere. Instead of the large kegs of beer, there were many smaller kegs filled with different types of child-friendly drinks.

"Are we going to your house after this?" Fennel asked with a mouthful of fish.

"No," came the simple reply.

"Why not? I'm supposed to stay with you." Djinjer couldn't help but look up at Fennel's heart broken tone.

"I don't have a house," Djinjer added. "I'm always on the go." The girl frowned. Was it what she said…or how she said it?

Fennel ate in silence for the most part, which made Djinjer assume she had somehow upset the girl. When she didn't ask for dessert, Djinjer didn't buy anything. Instead, they made their way back to the local Inn, where absolutely no drinking and no smoking was allowed. Allison, the Inn Keeper, seemed a little confused to see an orphan tagging along with Djinjer. Thankfully, she gave them two beds for the price of one, which Djinjer was immediately grateful for.

But that night, as it was quiet in their rented room, Djinjer heard a sound that was all too familiar to her: the soft sounds of a broken heart. She suddenly felt guilty for taking the girl in…but she didn't really do that, did she? The girl had been forced upon her and now she was stuck with disappointing her. Ever since she was little, Djinjer _never_ got along with girls. In fact, the first girl that she made a connection to was Kimberly…and that was on a very _different_ level.

Djinjer looked at the girl, whom appeared to be sleeping. They really were alike, weren't they? Red headed, freckled, dead parents…both of them were alone. Djinjer sat up in bed, lighting the small bedside lantern. She removed her map from her backpack and immediately began studying the areas. Djinjer didn't know where the girl would want to visit, but she would do her best to not disappoint Fennel anymore.

Morning came too quickly. Fennel, as she expected, was quiet and didn't say anything during breakfast. Djinjer, not having a single maternal bone in her body, felt strange as she watched the girl eat silently. She may not have been maternal, but she wasn't exactly cold hearted. "I was thinking, if you want, we could see some of the areas around the city?"

"How about the tram?" Though she remained calm, Djinjer could nearly see her eyes light up with excitement.

"I'm very familiar with the tram," she smiled. "We can do that."

"_WE CAN? YAAAAAY!_" And that was that. Everything was fixed.

In one day, they took the tram to Ironforge, saw the Great Anvil, which Djinjer was surprised to witness her dwarf friends on good behavior. And then they actually managed to see the leaders of Ironforge. The three of them were bickering quite loudly, until one dwarf slammed his hand on a small wooden table and woke the Queen-Regent's son. Dwarf babies. Those were something else. They weren't ugly…but they weren't exactly cute, either. According to many people-those that forgave "Princess" Moira for her temporary sole rule over Ironforge-the baby was the most handsome of dwarf infants. Still, Djinjer couldn't tear her eyes away from it's overly large uni-brow.

And then Fennel wanted to ride the tram again, so they made their way back to Stormwind City, where they had lunch and then she asked for something Djinjer wasn't…so keen on. Fennel wanted to see Prince Anduin, whom she assured Djinjer was her friend. Now, Djinjer _did_ think it was a little weird that anyone could just walk into Ironforge and see the three leaders, but she found it even stranger that both she-and apparently others-could just waltz right into the Castle.

There was a line.

There was an _actual_…_line_.

By the time she and Fennel were second in line, Djinjer noticed one thing: each person that took in an orphan was visibly shaken, most likely from the presence of the King. And then she heard the words she would forever hate: "Step Forward!"

Djinjer walked forward, was quickly checked-as was Fennel-and was then ushered forward where her eyes immediately met those of the King of Stormwind. The last time she had seen him, he was laughing at her. Or maybe he was laughing because _her_ King made a joke about her "love" for Darius Crowley. Whatever the reason his laughter was for, Djinjer couldn't help but feel frightened by the man now staring at her. And then Djinjer nearly died-both from shock and shame-as a guard snarled out, "Bow before your King!"

Fennel, of all people, grabbed her wrist and pulled. Djinjer quickly fell to one knee, which earned her a chuckle from both Kings and the Prince. When Fennel bounced up to her feet, Djinjer stood up and thankfully, Fennel did all of the talking.

"_Aaanduiiiin!_"

The blond teenage boy, whom had every ounce of his father's good looks, had none of his father's intimidation. Just standing there, Djinjer thought he looked close to her age, but when he smiled, his true age came out; early to mid teens and no older. "Hello, Fennel. It's been too long."

"Two years and we _do_ live in the _same_ city, you know."

"Yes, Fennel, you're right. I do apologize. But to be fair, a _lot_ has gone on, you know." Anduin left his father's side and to Djinjer's surprise, he hugged Fennel. Releasing her from the hug, the prince looked at Djinjer…and smiled. Djinjer smiled back, but felt wrong for being in his presence.

"Djinjer," her king murmured. She ignored the conversation Fennel and Anduin were having and turned her attention to Genn. "I'm glad to see you're taking part in the festivities. Perhaps when this is over with, I can summon you?"

Djinjer began stuttering over her words, uncertain of what she should say. The other king, King Varian leaned towards her King and answered, "She will not only answer to you and your family's summon, but join us for Anduin's birthday celebration. The information will be sent to her." The King grinned at Genn.

Somehow managing to both blush and blanch at the same time, Djinjer happily grabbed Fennel and raced out of the room as the guard shouted that their time was up. "Bye! Bye, Anduin!"

"Bye, Fennel!" the prince called out.

Fennel was talking a mile-a-minute and though Djinjer nodded and replied with, "That's nice," she wasn't really paying attention. She quickly found a mailbox, opened it, pulled out the paper and quill and quickly began writing to Zathaniel. Fennel didn't seem to notice. Instead, she was talking about the mailboxes and how interesting they were. "Open, Paper, Close, No paper, Open, Paper! I just love magical things! We aren't allowed to play with the mailboxes or even touch them!"

Djinjer quickly read over her letter: "_Zathaniel, I've just been forced into going to a celebration by your cousin. The royal one. Not Tess. What am I supposed to do? What do I wear? Can I refuse? I need help, please!_"

"I want to see the Harbor! Up close!"

"Okay," Djinjer breathed out, folding up the letter and scribbling the required information on it. "Let's go." And that was that. She would eagerly await Zathaniel's reply…and hopefully, she would get that reply soon.

The following days were stressful for Djinjer, but not entirely _bad_. Fennel wore her out most days and so her nights were filled with peaceful, much needed sleep. Tonight was no different. Her eyes burned and ached; she wanted to shut them. But Fennel had yet to calm down. The two of them were in their rented room, where Fennel was washing up and now, she was brushing her hair. "Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" Truth was, Djinjer was also _so_ tired of wearing armor. "You know, if you saved all the money you spend from renting rooms, I bet you could get a house."

"That's true, but where would I sleep in the meantime?"

"I guess that's a good point!" Fennel chuckled and slipped under her blankets. "The water's still warm!" But it always was. That was just another magical means of comfort. Djinjer began slipping off her armor, carefully placing it on the floor. She always felt so relieved after taking off every ounce of armor. She washed up quickly and then pulled her hair free from its ponytail. "How'd you get those scars?"

"Djinjer looked down at her shoulder. The once pink scar was now only slightly lighter than her skin tone. Part of her back must have looked much the same. "How do you think, Fennel? From being an adventurer."

"But you're always covered in plate," Fennel replied.

"Not _always_. If, for some odd reason, the Inn was attacked, do you think the enemy would wait for me to put my gear back on? I don't think so." And then she turned down the lamp and slipped into bed, almost instantly falling asleep…had it not been for Fennel.

"Hey…Djinjer?"

Djinjer groaned into her pillow. A day worth of fighting wild beasts and Horde was easier than this! "What, Fennel?"

"…Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome…now go to sleep."

"One more thing…"

Djinjer sighed and turned over, facing Fennel. "What, Fennel?"

"You're a worgen, aren't you?"

"…Yes."

"That's the last thing I want: to see you as a worgen before I have to go back home tomorrow."

"I thought I got you for a week," Djinjer murmured.

"Well, you were later than the others. I'm not normally picked for Children's Week. I know I talk a lot and I know I can be annoying…but Djinjer, this was the best few days _ever_. …I love you, Djinjer."

Djinjer stared at the girl, whom stared back at her in the darkness of their room. They sort of did look alike, didn't they? "I love you, too, Fennel. Now try to get some sleep."

Djinjer woke with a start, sitting up in bed. Her entire body was covered with a thin layer of sweat. Panting softly, Djinjer looked to her left. Fennel was snoring softly in her bed and their room was still dark. Taking a few deep breaths, she turned around and looked out of the window. From the coloring of the night, Djinjer assumed it was around four in the morning. She sighed heavily, attempting to shake the fear that remained after the nightmare.

In her nightmare, she had gone to the Prince's Gala. There, they were attacked by men in hooded cloaks. Everyone she cared about was at that gala, including her parents…Kimberly…even Liam. They were all killed, including herself. And then they were underwater, in her house. She couldn't breathe and no matter how hard she pushed to swim up, she didn't move. The house kept sinking with her in it.

Djinjer sighed softly. When would the nightmares stop? When would she get beyond what happened in Gilneas?

With little hope or want to return to sleep, Djinjer freshened up and dressed in her armor. Comfortable, she made her way downstairs and out into the street. It wasn't an odd sight to see that Stormwind City was wide awake at such an hour. Instead, Djinjer found it a bit all too normal.

For hours, she sat in the Auction House, watching the auctioneers speak to and make deals with other adventurers. When it was daylight outside, Djinjer returned to the Inn, where Fennel was awake and waiting for her. "Since it's my last day with you, _I_ want to take _you_ somewhere special."

Djinjer blinked at the little girl and then smiled. "That sounds nice."

Fennel beamed from ear to ear as she grabbed onto Djinjer's wrist and dragged her outside. "But first, I want to see the real you."

"I don't think transforming in the middle of a crowded district is the best idea, Fennel." Though everyone was getting used to worgen, there were still some things you just didn't do out in public and transforming was one of them.

"That's fine! Where we're going, we'll have enough privacy!" Djinjer didn't say much else as Fennel continued to drag her through the city, taking small alley ways here and there. And then finally, they came upon a closed off section of the city, which was scorched and smelled heavily of burning wood. "Careful," Fennel told her as she slipped into window of an abandoned shop. Djinjer did the same and followed Fennel, whom had apparently been here before. Fennel's footprints were all over the shop's soot covered floor.

"And out the backdoor," she murmured, slipping through a door that Djinjer had to squeeze through. "Now…before we go _any_ further…are you going to transform?"

"Yes," Djinjer sighed out. "But don't blame me if you get scared!"

Fennel stuck her nose in the air, "Nothing scares _me_."

"I'm sure," Djinjer replied with a grin. "Step back." Fennel quickly made her way into the corner of the room. Djinjer gave Fennel one hard look before sighing and lurching forward. Words still couldn't fully describe the feeling of one's bones and flesh changing and growing. And to suddenly stand there, noticeably taller, with enhanced senses…it was _always_ so surreal. Djinjer stared at Fennel, whom stared back with wide eyes and an open mouth. Djinjer walked forward and crouched down in front of Fennel. "Well?" she growled out, "What do you think?"

Fennel stood there for a moment, her eyes locked with Djinjer's. Djinjer could hear the girl's breath quicken and her heart beat faster, but there wasn't the slightest scent of fear emitting from her. Fennel took a deep breath and Djinjer winced-expecting a blood curdling scream. Instead, Fennel let out an extremely loud, "_W-o-w!_" she took a deep breath of air and began poking Djinjer. "Wow! You're so _cool_! You feel just like a dog! You kind of smell like one, too!"

"Hey!" Djinjer snapped, bearing her teeth.

"I didn't mean that in a bad way," Fennel laughed out and pounced on Djinjer, wrapping her arms around her thick, wolfish neck. "You're amazing!" Djinjer laughed and very carefully wrapped her arms around Fennel. "When I grow up, I know exactly what I'm going to be: a warrior, just like you!"

Djinjer chuckled softly. "So is this all you wanted to show me?"

"Oh!" Fennel quickly pulled away from Djinjer and forced open the backyard, which immediately alerted Djinjer to what Fennel wanted to show her. The strong smell of manure poured into the shop, much to her heightened sense of smell's horror. In an attempt to make it smell less horrible, she quickly morphed back into her human body and covered her nose.

Seconds later, Fennel returned with the owner of said stench. "I can't keep him," she said. "And I can't afford to buy him anymore food…and if I'm caught stealing again, I'll be in big trouble. I know you're an adventurer, but can't you do _something_?"

Djinjer stared down at the dirty piglet. She knew for a _fact_ that wasn't _just_ mud on him. "Um…"

"Please?" Fennel whined. "I'll always remember you. Orphans never forget their sponsors…but it's not the same for sponsors. They can easily forget their orphans, _especially_ adventurers! Please, Djinjer, please take Mr. Wiggles. He's the only thing I can give you that'll remind you of me."

"Rough day?" Djinjer looked over her should at the one person that really did _always_ find her in Stormwind. Officer Binks Jaxon was leaning against the nearby tree, watching her.

After bringing Fennel back to the orphanage, Djinjer _had_ to clean her new pet pig. So she fed him and brought him out to the front of Stormwind and made her way down to the moat. There, she slipped off her armor, slipped on a raggedy pair of cloth pants Qiralyn had given her, and rolled them up to her knees. Bathing this pig wasn't easy. The layers of caked on muck (which was really the only word for it) didn't seem to want to wash away.

And then something happened.

For the first time in a long time, Djinjer truly felt lonely and more than anything, she missed her old life. She cried as she slowly scrubbed the pig, but stopped as she realized she was being foolish. It was then that the Officer had to show up. "What's wrong?" he asked softly. Djinjer shook her head and turned back to the pig, blinking back the new wave of tears.

"Did Fennel say something?"

"No," Djinjer replied, perhaps a bit too rudely. "How'd you know I had Fennel?"

"I saw you with her. If I hadn't known any better, I'd think she was your sister." When she didn't reply, he added, "She never means to be rude."

"It wasn't her. Not really at least," Djinjer said, attempting to brush her bangs back with her forearms.

"Then what was it?"

Djinjer sighed irritably and knelt down, once more scrubbing the piglet. "I made a connection with her."

"And? Why is that so bad?" Djinjer shot a glare at the officer. He was sitting next to her belongings, watching the piglet. "Are you afraid to let people get close?"

Djinjer frowned as yet another wave of tears threatened her. "Maybe." And then she sighed as she blinked back the tears, yet again. "It's just…I made a connection with that little girl in only a few days and now…" she sobbed, "I don't know what I want to do anymore! Do I really want to be a warrior and set out and have tasks and never have a home or a family to come back to? If I die out there, no one will know! No one will mourn me! Everything I own is right there in that bag! I'm a bag!"

She didn't know why she allowed it to happen, but Officer Jaxon not only pulled her into his arms, but kissed her as well. With as confused and heart broken as she was, Djinjer didn't even compare his kiss to Kimberly's, whom was the only other person she had kissed. She didn't worry about the pig, which decided to roll around in the dirt near her bag. She needed someone to care about her and right now…the one person that annoyed her the most was doing just that.


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note: **_Alright! So! I know there's a little confusion towards the end, but don't worry...it'll be answered in the next chapter. Also! I finally have some sort of direction, so the chapters seem to be coming together a bit quicker. :) I hope you all enjoy and I hope everyone (that has an active account!) is enjoying Hallow's End!  
_

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Djinjer's eyes fluttered open and the first thing that crossed her mind was: he was a gentleman. After calming Djinjer down and bathing Mr. Wiggles for her, he walked her back to his home, gave her his bedroom and slept on the tiny couch that they had passed in his living room. Slowly, Djinjer sat up. She brushed her hair into its usual style, washed her face, and dressed in her armor.

How she, or anybody, could walk silently in armor mystified her, but she managed it. With his arms and feet hanging over every side of the couch, Officer Jaxon slept peacefully and she was not about to change that. She slipped out of the house and made her way to the nearest mailbox, where immediately-she noticed a letter waiting for her. It was _still_ odd for Djinjer to see her mail appear no matter where she was in the world.

Without skipping a beat, she grabbed the letter, tucked it into her breastplate, and pulled out the quill and a piece of paper. She wrote her thanks and appreciation into that letter and instead of mailing it, she folded it up and brought it back to the house, where she tucked it into the door.

With a bit of breakfast bought from the street vendors, Djinjer made her way to the fountain overlooking the harbor and finally sat down to read her letter. Though slightly disappointed that it was only a one page letter, Djinjer quickly read through it.

_Djinjer,_

_Don't worry about anything. I've written to Tess and she's agreed to help you get through this. Report to the small park behind the Cathedral to meet up with her. She'll be waiting._

_With Love,_

_Zathaniel_

Mid bite, Djinjer read that last part over and over again. Tess…his cousin…her princess…would be waiting for _her-_Djinjer-in the park behind the Cathedral. A sudden panic filled Djinjer. She shoved the letter into her bag, tossed the rest of her breakfast at a flock of looming seagulls and took off running as fast as she could _without_ turning into a worgen. Djinjer came to a skidding halt as she entered the park and there-sitting in the shade-was none other than Princess Tess Greymane.

The princess was sitting upon a small quilt. With a basket beside her, Tess was reading a book and eating an apple. She turned her hazel eyes up at Djinjer and immediately placed her apple down, grabbing a napkin instead. Djinjer couldn't help but smile as she slowly approached her princess, whom was doing her best to finish the bit of apple off that was in her mouth as she also dabbed at her lips with her napkin.

This time, she didn't need to be told to bow. Djinjer gracefully knelt down onto one knee, bowing her head low. "Come now," Tess giggled out. "You don't need to do that. Here," Tess patted the quilt beside her, "sit. Please."

"Thank you, Princess." Djinjer blushed lightly as she sat beside the princess, whom smiled brightly at her. It was odd to see so many similarities between Liam and Zathaniel in Tess.

"Call me Tess, please. With as much as Zathaniel has spoken about you, I feel as though we're already friends." Djinjer nodded as she sat there beside Tess. When she didn't say anything, Tess leaned forward catching Djinjer's gaze, brushing her raven hair back behind her ears. "You have nothing to be nervous about."

"This is just strange, that's all," Djinjer replied with a slight smile. "What are we supposed to do anyway?"

"Well," Tess began gathering her things, "you're going to spend the day with me. We'll get your hair done, your nails…get you a pretty frock. But first, I think we should _really_ bathe you." Djinjer stared at the princess in shock. She was bathed…did she smell? "_Oh_! I didn't mean anything by that! It's just we want to make sure you're perfect for the gala tonight, don't we?"

"O-of course!" Djinjer murmured, standing up and helping the princess up. Together, they folded the quilt and placed it into the basket Tess carried. "So…were to, first?"

"The castle, of course." Tess smiled and wrapped an arm around Djinjer's left arm. Together, the two of them walked through the streets of Stormwind until they reached the castle. They took turns here and there and not once did she catch a glimpse of either king, nor the prince. Finally, she found herself in a room that could probably fit Elijah's home in it and almost immediately, she was swarmed by servants. They removed her gear so quickly that Djinjer was left standing there in her under clothes, wondering what had happened.

A new person stepped forward and he was definitely no servant. "You'll love him!" Tess said as she sat on a sofa with her mother, whom watched with a smile. Djinjer turned back to the thin man with parted, shoulder length brown hair. He circled her a few times, took a good look at her scars and murmured, "We can't have a bare back…nor bare shoulders. I'm thinking…" he stopped in front of her and trailed his fingers along her collarbone. "The dress will be a rich, emerald green. It'll dip just low enough," his middle finger rested just above her cleavage. "A softer green fabric will rest _just_ enough on your shoulders to hide that scar…and leave your arms bare."

"That sounds beautiful," Tess murmured.

Djinjer sighed, "My mother always put me in green."

"Fine." The man turned around, his nose in the air. "Purple will do." He clapped his hands together twice, "Measurements after her bath!"

Djinjer gasped and despite her protests, she was brought to the side of the room, where she was stripped completely naked and nearly thrown into a foamy bath. She was scrubbed until her skin turned pink and burned slightly. Her hair was scrubbed and washed not once, not twice, but three times. And each time the servants rinsed her hair, they never warned her before pouring an entire bucket of warm water over her head. For nearly thirty minutes, Djinjer could do nothing but sputter and wipe soapy water out of her eyes.

Finally she was pulled from the bath, patted dry with a towel, and then immediately, two women tackled her hair. One dried it with a towel, the other combed it, and another woman began dressing her in fancy underclothing. She was brought back out to the main room, where more people rushed around her and began taking measurements and all Djinjer could think was that this was more mind boggling than fighting in Arathi Basin.

"Quickly, quickly!" the brown haired man called out. "We must immediately get to work!" And just like that, they were gone. But as they were rushing out of the room, Djinjer caught sight of a woman with long brown hair standing just outside of the room. Tess called out to her and the woman walked into the room with a small, blonde girl holding her hand.

"I'm so very sorry, Princess. I couldn't find anyone to watch over Anastasia."

Tess smiled at the brown haired woman. "It's perfectly fine, Genevieve." Tess rushed forward, shaking the woman's free hand, then patted the blonde girl's head. "This is the girl I told you about." Tess walked Genevieve over to her, and Djinjer couldn't help but feel overly exposed. "We'll need her all dolled up. Think you can do it?"

Genevieve smiled at Djinjer, eyed her, and murmured, "Hardly a 'girl,' but I think I can manage it. My name is Genevieve," she said, shaking Djinjer's hand.

"I'm Djinjer." Genevieve grabbed a hold of Djinjer's shoulders, bringing her over to a chair.

"Sit perfectly still, Djinjer," Genevieve said. Djinjer sat straight and kept her head forward, ignoring the conversation taking place between Anastasia, the princess, and the queen.

Genevieve placed a basket down on the table beside Djinjer and threw a cloak around her neck. Her damp hair was sprayed down, cut, curled, and styled and it all took much longer than Djinjer would have assumed. In some odd way, she was more tired doing all of this than traveling in her worgen body. But in another way…it was nice. It felt good to be pampered and cleaned up.

After her hair was done, Genevieve came around in front of her and began working on Djinjer's makeup. She was allowed to stretch, walk around, and have a small snack before she was sat down again and had her "atrocious" nails tended to. By the time the afternoon arrived, Djinjer was quickly changing her mind about attending the prince's birthday party.

"Don't be silly, girl, it's far too late for you to change your mind," said Georgio, the tailor that had taken her measurements. According to both Tess and her mother, Georgio worked wonders with fabric. Besides being a bit too touchy-feely, Djinjer didn't mind him too much.

"Just seems like a hassle," Djinjer murmured, to which Georgio cocked his eyebrow to. "I know, I know, stay still."

With a few quick adjustments, Djinjer was slipped into her stockings and her gown, which, to her surprise, was not only pretty but comfortable _and_ not green. Djinjer wanted to thank the Greymane ladies, but both were off on their own, getting ready for the gala.

"These jewels were given to me specifically by Theresa Denman," Georgio said softly, as he placed a necklace around her neck. "It's an awful shame your ears aren't pierced. However, I did find a few smaller hoops that you may like for your, er…facial…piercings."

"Um," he held a velvet covered tray out to her and Djinjer couldn't believe her eyes. "They're all so gorgeous…I could never afford these."

"The costs are covered by the Greymane family," Tess said as she walked forward and sat in the chair Djinjer had occupied only earlier. Genevieve immediately began working on her. "So don't be shy, Djinjer. Pick what you like." Djinjer gave one more look to the tray and sighed softly. This all felt like a strange dream.

Djinjer felt like a fool. It was hard not to. After all, she had gotten dolled up and for what? To hide her face behind a mask and sit there in the corner of the room, doing nothing. Tess, whom had been dressed much more elegantly than Djinjer, was off dancing with just about every man whom asked her. Then again, Tess seemed to have felt obligated to. As the sole heir of the Greymane throne, it was up to her to pick a good and deserving husband, whom would become king of…. Of what?

She sighed softly and placed her mask down on her lap. The one highlight of the evening was also the last time she was spoken to. Prince Anduin had greeted her, thanked her for coming, and wished her a joyful evening. Well, it wasn't the _last_ time she was spoken to, but Tess barely got a moment of rest before she was swept up by another possible suitor.

"Ahem." Djinjer ignored the suitor. Men had approached her more than once, but each time she politely refused to dance with them. It was odd, at least to her, to dance with random strangers. Not to mention, she didn't really know how to dance.

"_Ahem_." Djinjer bit back the sigh, raised her mask to her face, and turned to the new suitor. "I've never seen you look so enchanting."

Djinjer groaned, but smiled. "You had to be here, didn't you?" The masked man, wearing varying shades of blue and gold grinned at her. His mask, like many other men, had an elastic band that held it firmly to his face.

"Of course, dear Djinjer. All of the Officers are here." Officer Jaxon held his hand out to her. "Care to dance?"

"I don't really know how…and even if I did, I'm not sure I could walk in these things."

"Surely you didn't hover over here?" She laughed softly, and then slowly accepted his hand. "I promise, you won't regret it."

"Binks, I regret everything with you." And it was true, though he didn't see it as so. He brought her out to the dance floor and there, he held her close. Of course, Djinjer tripped over her feet more than once, but all in all, it wasn't _that_ bad of an experience. In fact, it went well enough that Djinjer stayed out on the dance floor for two more dances, laughing and joking with the officer, whom seemed entirely dashing in his elegant suit.

"So, tell me…if you're this _important_ officer, why do you live in such an awful house?"

Binks chuckled softly. "Why do they always ask that?"

"Because it's _true_! I mean, you live in this tiny little-"

"Because I choose to, Djinjer. I don't see the point in buying a large house when I live on my own. Unless," he grinned devilishly at her, "you would like to live with me?"

Djinjer blushed behind her mask, "I wasn't saying anything of the sort."

Binks bit his lip as he stared into her eyes, then smiled. "May I be as bold as to ask you for a kiss?"

Djinjer laughed softly as he spun her around. "You didn't ask the first time."

"Ah, but that was a kiss of _healing_ nature. It's different." He gently pulled her against him, stopping all motion. The Officer cupped her chin and tilted it upwards, "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" The whisper caused her to shiver slightly as she allowed her mask to fall to her side. Djinjer couldn't help but close her eyes as he leaned forward, but just as his lips brushed hers, Djinjer was suddenly _yanked_ from Officer Jaxon.

"Sorry, but I _must_ steal Djinjer away!" Princess Tess said quickly, pulling Djinjer to the side of the room. "Oh, you have to go talk to him! He was so upset! I can't believe this, I thought you were different and I thought that's why you didn't accept him-and oh, _no_! I've never seen him this angry!"

"Who and _what_ are you talking about?" Djinjer blurted out.

Tess smiled at a few people as they passed through them and finally, they stood just beside the double doors. Tess sighed heavily and removed her mask, "I'm talking about the fact that you're supposed to be otherly sexual and yet there you are, on the dance floor, dancing with a _man_ right in front of the man I consider a brother!" Djinjer froze. Certainly she was talking about _someone else_. "He didn't even look as crestfallen when he announced his separation from his wife!" She shook her head, "When he saw the two of you about to kiss…."

Djinjer grabbed the flushed face of Tess and held it still, forcing Tess to look at her. "Who…are you talking about?"

Tess's frowned, "Za-"

"Where did he go?" Djinjer's heart immediately began pounding. As soon as Tess pointed to the_ opposite_ doors, Djinjer began pushing her way through the crowd of people, clearly panicking. She had never told Zathaniel anything about the change in her sexuality. Ever since he tried kissing her after having saved her from the fall that would have most certainly killed her, Djinjer felt guilty for _not_ allowing him to kiss her.

"He's wearing a red and-excuse me-gold coat!" Tess shouted from behind her. "Please, Djinjer, be gentle with his heart!" And that was the last thing she heard as she opened the heavy door and slipped through it.

Djinjer now stood in a dark hall. The only light source-her heart trembled. Slowly, she began walking to the balcony, where Zathaniel stood alone, bathed in moonlight. From this angle, with his hair brushed back into a ponytail, he reminded her of Liam. Djinjer slowly placed her hand on his shoulder. Slowly, Zathaniel looked over his shoulder, but the glare he gave her pierced her heart. He looked away and pulled his shoulder from her hand.

"What do _you_ want?"

Djinjer sighed softly and walked around to lean against the balcony, beside him. "Why are you angry with me?"

It was apparently the wrong thing to ask. "_Why am _I_ angry_?" he shouted at her.

"I didn't even know you were going to be here! You didn't say anything about it!" Djinjer quickly blurted out.

"And what does that mean? That if you knew, you wouldn't have cuddled up to him? You would have instead, been all over a woman? Please, Djinjer, don't try and spare my heart!"

"It's not like that!"

"Apparently not!" he roared. "All this time I thought you pulled away from me because the rumors about you were true! I told myself to stop caring! Now I find out the rumors weren't true!" With a clawed and fur covered hand, Zathaniel grabbed the stone potted plant and with ease, threw it against the wall of the castle. It cracked the wall and the pot crumbled, falling to the ground. Djinjer gasped, staring at Zathaniel with wide eyes. "Damn it, Djinjer! Do you know what I've been through _for you_?"

"Yes-"

"No, you don't! From the moment I saw you, I wanted to know you. If you had given me even the smallest chance back then, I would have left _everything_ behind for you!" He grabbed a hold of the stone railing and sighed loudly.

"Zathaniel…back then the rumors were true."

"Oh, and I suppose you're different now?" He shook his head. "It's because of _you_ that I'm a monster. I searched for you for months when you were wild. I almost lost everything, even my mind, because of you…and you don't appreciate _anything_."

"Just please listen!" Djinjer begged, tears forming in her eyes.

"After everything I've been through, I'm done listening, Djinjer." He turned to her and stared at her for a moment, then cupped her chin. "If I've hurt you with my words, I'm not sorry." He dropped his hand. "They say that words, like a sharp knife, can kill without spilling a drop of blood." As he turned back to the hallway, he glared at her, "But I hope my words were as dull as that sword your father gave you…and I hope you _bleed_."

Djinjer stood there, watching Zathaniel walk away. A cold wind swept around her, but it was nothing compared to the chill of his words. She took a deep breath, blinked back the tears, and silenced her pain. If there had been some other way to leave the castle, she would have. Unfortunately, she didn't think she'd survive the jump from the balcony.

With a deep breath, Djinjer walked forward, through the dark hall, and stopped at the door. She stood there for a moment, afraid to open it and see either Tess or Zathaniel. Another gasp erupted from Djinjer as her head snapped up. She could hear worgen growling inside and quickly, Djinjer yanked open the doors.

There were too many people moving, running, shouting for Djinjer to clearly see what was going on. She pushed through the people, even shoved some out of the way…and what Djinjer came to see made her blood run cold. Had her nightmare been premonition? Standing in the room were cloaked men and women. Her king, Zathaniel, and a few others were in their worgen forms, fighting. There were some spell casters doing their best to attack the invaders, but they kept appearing. King Varian, weaponless, was fighting them off with his bare hands.

But what exactly were these cloaked people after?

Djinjer's attention turned to Tess. The fear that ran through her was powerful. Tess, weak and fragile, was standing so boldly in front of Prince Anduin. Guards were pouring into the room to battle these cultists. A gun went off and Djinjer caught sight of the one eyed-Darius Crowley. But her attention turned back to Tess and immediately, Djinjer knew something very bad was about to happen. Anduin was pleading with her to run, to take cover…but she didn't move.

"Tess!" Djinjer shouted. A dark portal opened right in front of Tess and Anduin and out from it stepped a large man. She had never seen anything like this human. He stood taller than all of the humans. He wasn't robed like the others were. His face was painted with dark runes that trailed down and crossed over his bare chest. This large man removed a sword from his back and slowly walked towards Tess. But it wasn't Tess he was after, was it? It was Anduin. This group of people had been sent to Stormwind when most of these brave warriors would be weaponless. They were here…to kill the Prince of Stormwind.

Djinjer dashed to the Prince and Princess. "I'll eat your heart!" shouted the man in an accent she had never heard before. She was certain that this man was no average human. The man swung his sword, but Anduin was quick to respond. He grabbed Tess and quickly stepped back, but the two of them were sent crashing to the floor. "Run, Anduin!" she heard Tess shout.

A golden light encompassed the two of them, but the giant of a man swung his crudely-made weapon until the bubble of golden light burst. Tess let out a shriek of horror as the large man jabbed his sword downward. Djinjer stared down into the eyes of Tess. Tears filled Tess's eyes, but Djinjer gave her a weak smile. The man cackled and shoved his sword down, piercing Djinjer's body. She looked down at the tip slid through her stomach, her blood pouring onto Tess. Rage filled her.

Trembling in pain and anger, Djinjer suddenly lurched upward, the blade sinking through her even more. The fury she felt erased whatever pain was there. She couldn't stop her body from exploding into its true form. Shaking, Djinjer jerked upwards again, standing on her feet. She took a step back and spun around, facing the rune-covered man. With blood seeping down her torn dress and dripping out of her mouth, Djinjer took a deep breath and let out a loud roar.

Djinjer was sent into a frenzy. The man tried to dodge and block her attacks, but his skin was no match for her sharp claws. She grabbed him by the neck, sinking her thumb into his throat. Blood spurted from the wound, and after that, his blood was all she wanted to see. Djinjer began shredding his skin, biting chunks off. He roared in pain, he continued fighting against her, but it was of no use. She bit down onto his neck, sinking her claws down into his arms until she was able to rip one from his body.

She would have continued, had the sword not been ripped from her body. Djinjer spun around, her blood pouring from the wound. The small cultist raised it high above his head, but a fiery bolder was sent slamming into his body. Djinjer looked to her right. Through her blurred vision, she could see a blonde woman.

Djinjer gasped as she suddenly fell face first onto the floor. No matter how much she blinked, her vision was fading. "Djinjer! Please, no, _no_, _NO!_" The last thing Djinjer saw…was the trail of blood.

He had heard the roar. He had turned, much like everyone else. He had seen the female worgen mutilating the cultist warrior. With a cultist in arm's length, distracted by the roar, he snapped her neck and threw her dead body to the floor. But there _she_ was. Her eyes were wild…much as they had been when she had attacked him all those months ago.

With the entire length of a sword through her body, Djinjer was bleeding to death right in front of him. He froze. What else could he do? "I hope you bleed." It kept running through his head. The sword was pulled from her. "I hope you bleed." When Djinjer crumpled to the floor in her human body, the cultists-those that were still alive-quickly began vanishing.

With King Varian now equipped with his swords, he and several other powerful people were partaking in the small battle. "Djinjer!" he yelped out. He ran over to her and slipped in her blood, falling to his knees. "Please, no, _no_, _NO!_" he shouted.

Zathaniel slowly turned her over. There were plenty of times in Gilneas when he thought Djinjer had been killed. She would always open her eyes and let out a groan. He let out a sob as he pulled her into his arms. Her eyes were open, but they were unseeing. He looked around…

Tess, covered in Djinjer's blood, was held in her mother's arms while her father looked over her. Her eyes were filled with horror as she stared at Djinjer.

Prince Anduin, whom had started fighting as soon as Djinjer had roared, had a gash in his arm and his ear was bleeding. He was shaking his head at his father and even in Zathaniel's anguish, he could see the boy mouthing, "I should have done more."

Lorna Crowley was quickly making her way to the King and Queen. And her father…

"Let her go, boy. She fought bravely."

"I can try and save her!" Anduin said loudly, walking over to her. "She saved me…I can _try_!"

"You've never done resurrection spell, Anduin," Varian said sternly.

"Please," Anduin placed his hand on Djinjer's shoulder.

"_Don't touch her_!" Zathaniel snarled, feeling his face morph for only a split second.

His uncle, quickly sensing danger, ran over to them. "Put…her down, Zathaniel. Let him try before it is too late. She has always fought, Zathaniel. Why would she not fight now?"

Zathaniel looked down at Djinjer's pale face. He strained to keep his tears back and slowly, he placed her down on the floor, in her blood. Anduin took a deep breath and leaned over, placing his hand over her chest; he slipped the other under her body. A bright, glowing light filled his hands as he whispered softly. The light formed into a ball and slowly drifted down onto Djinjer. The same light engulfed her only for a second before showering upwards.

The light faded, the wound on her stomach had healed…but nothing else happened.

Anduin stared at Djinjer, then looked up at Zathaniel just as Zathaniel looked at him. "M-maybe I did it wrong."

"No," the blonde woman walked over to them and knelt down. "Some souls just…pass on. You can't save everyone, Anduin. You just can't."

This world was dark and filled with soft whispers. Djinjer knew she was in still in Stormwind, but she wasn't quite sure…what was happening. She walked forward, looking around. Everything was an exact duplicate of the regular world, but it was as if all of the color had been drained from it. "Hello?" she called out, listening to her voice echo. "Is anyone out there?"

Djinjer gasped softly as a light blinded her. Slowly, she lowered her hand and there, just to her left, sat a beautiful woman on a grave. She was transparent, just like Djinjer, but a golden light encompassed her. The woman slowly looked at Djinjer and smiled, "What are you doing here?"

"I…I don't know," Djinjer replied, stepping forward. The woman's eyes lowered to Djinjer's abdomen and Djinjer looked down at the wound, "Oh…. That's right. …I died."

The woman stood up and walked over to Djinjer. "But now is not your time, Djinjer."

"What do you mean? And how do you know my name?" Djinjer asked, looking at the woman.

She smiled and shrugged, "Here, we sort of know everyone's name. And we know when someone like you isn't supposed to be here."

"'We?' I only see you."

The woman laughed softly. "That's because this _isn't_ your time." Djinjer gasped loudly as thunder roared overhead. Seeing the maelstrom of swirling darkness above her frightened her, but something else quickly caught her attention. A dash of color filled the grave yard and suddenly, the wind began to pick up. "Don't fight it, Djinjer. They're trying to bring you back."

"But what if I don't want to go back?" Djinjer shouted over the gusts of wind.

"You have to. No one here is ready for you, yet. Djinjer…go. Go and protect those you love."

"But they're all dead!" Djinjer replied, fighting against the suction.

"No, Djinjer…and you know that. You must return, strong Djinjer. If not for you, then for the future. Now, go! Accept your fate and _go_!" The blonde woman placed her golden hand upon Djinjer's forehead and with one shove, Djinjer was sent soaring into the portal of life.

Color and light blinded Djinjer, but she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes. She gasped desperately for air as her back arched in pain. "It worked!" a woman said, seeming pleasantly surprised. "Anduin, it worked!"

"Breathe. I have you," another voice murmured close to her ear. With her head swimming, Djinjer closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She fought to keep consciousness, but it was of no avail. Djinjer would simply have to sleep this away.


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note: **_Well, this is much shorter than I wanted it to come out but I didn't want to drag anything out. Sorry it took so long! When I don't have a real direction or know what I want to do, it seems to take forever for me to write a chapter! I wrote this chapter nearly three times before I finally liked what I wrote. I'm pleased with it! :) And remember, if you'd like more information or updates about the chapter and/or characters, add me on facebook! Search: Djinjer AWorgens Tale_

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What can one say about death? Truly, there is nothing to say unless one has experienced death. But how many individuals return from the dead to describe what it's like? More than what Djinjer thought, apparently. Though keeping her eyes shut, Djinjer was now fully awake and thought about many things. Her thoughts, however, stalled on Elijah. He had gone through this. He had died and was brought back to life. She remembered how different he appeared to be; how he changed.

Djinjer didn't know how she should react to being resurrected. Should she act like nothing happened or should she talk about it? What does a person do in this situation? As far as describing what it was like being resurrected, there was only one word that came to mind: painful. It had felt much like being hit head on by the Deep Run Tram. Djinjer remembered gasping for air; that her lungs hurt more than the actual wound…but other than that, Djinjer remembered nothing.

It took a while before Djinjer wondered exactly where she was. She was not at a tavern, nor was she at Officer Jaxon's house, or even at the castle. She took a deep breath and quickly realized one thing: she was outside. The air smelled fresh, much like Gilneas in the early spring. There was also a quiet sort of thundering in the distance, which made her think she wasn't far from a waterfall. And then it occurred to Djinjer that she didn't really know of any waterfalls, except for those in Darkshore and she seriously doubted that's where she was.

After rubbing her eyes, Djinjer finally opened them and stared up at the illuminated ceiling. She was definitely outside somewhere in a tent. For a moment, she merely lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Then slowly, she trailed her finger tips along her abdomen. Her newest scar felt extremely soft, much like fleshy silk. It was larger than she had hoped it would be, but then again, what did she expect? What was most shocking about it was that there was still some pain deep inside of her, where she had been stabbed. And over all, her entire body ached only slightly.

Djinjer sat up and the first thing she noticed was her gear at the foot of the sleeping bag. And just beyond her gear was armor that she did not recognize. Compared to her "new" gear, this armor made her own look shabby and hardly suitable for an adventurer! Djinjer inched forward and grabbed the nearest piece: a bracer. It was smooth and much heavier than her mail. Djinjer looked back at the set, then back to her own and realized one thing: she would never have gear like that. As it was, Djinjer barely scraped by with her earnings from quests. She was filled with envy as she surveyed the deep red trim surrounding the burgundy and black coloring of the plated armor.

With a sigh, Djinjer placed the bracer back with the owner's armor, which quickly brought upon another realization. She didn't know a single female plate wearer, especially one that would want to take care of her. Djinjer froze as she heard the shuffling of feet just outside her tent. The footsteps faded and then, much to her horror, the flap of the tent was pushed open. Djinjer blinked at the face that was looking back at her. Brutus let out what Djinjer could only assume was a soft bark, and then walked out of the tent. It sounded more like, "burf," than anything else.

Brutus let out a louder bark from a short distance away and all Djinjer could think was: Zathaniel was not only outside, but he was outside with a female plate wearer. Suddenly nervous, Djinjer quickly dressed in her mismatched mail armor. She cringed as she looked herself over, then looked back at the plate armor. Her armor was made up of greens, blues, and dull grays…not to mention, the completely random maroon boots. Djinjer frowned at her appearance.

With a sigh, Djinjer swept her hair up into its usual ponytail and decided, she didn't need to have pretty armor. As long as the armor was functional, why should it matter what it looked like? Djinjer turned to face the entrance of the tent, but sighed again. A sudden flashback of her last conversation with Zathaniel played through her thoughts. What would he say? What would _she_ say? Djinjer hated awkward situations, but surely, she couldn't stay in this tent forever. With a deep breath, Djinjer pushed open the flap of the tent.

Zathaniel was first alarmed of her presence when Brutus turned around and gave a few welcoming barks. He inwardly sighed and cursed, having hoped he would have had more time by himself. And judging from the jingling of her armor, she-like he thought-assumed that the plate armor wasn't hers. After Anduin's first and very successful resurrection, everyone had assumed that the peace would have returned to the young Prince's birthday party. But how could it? Many people were injured and Djinjer's blood had not only spilled onto the white marble floor, but onto Princess Tess as well.

Both King and Queen Greymane fussed over their daughter, wondering if the mere spillage of blood upon her would infect her with the curse. Tess, however, argued back that she was fine and nothing was wrong. Many others were pushed to leave the castle, to return home and enjoy their evening since the party was most definitely over. Before long, the room was empty of guests, save a few whom were injured and being tended to by medics.

"Zathaniel, this is Lady Jaina Proudmoore; fashionably late for once." Zathaniel had looked up at the King, then to the blonde woman, whom smiled at him. Jaina Proudmoore was beautiful, more so than he'd like to admit, but his attention belonged solely for the woman in his arms. "And this speechless lad is a cousin of mine through my mother's; Zathaniel Gilneau." He should have known something was wrong, especially considering her shocked reaction.

Kneeling beside Anduin, whom looked both pleased and overwhelmed, Jaina Proudmoore stood up, cleared her throat, and quickly began muttering to the King in another language. The King laughed and quickly explained to him, "It seems the Proudmoore Family and the Gilneau Family are bitter enemies."

Jaina gasped and blushed. "_Varian_!" She fought for words before finally saying, in a very firm tone, "I think everyone should return to their quarters, get cleaned up, and maybe rest before we make fools of ourselves."

The King grinned at her, obviously wanting to say more. "Anduin, you heard her."

"Orders from Cho'gall to kidnap the Prince of Stormwind," Darius Crowley called out, as he read through a scroll.

And then, to make matters worse, _that man_ approached them. "My King, I would like to take the lady home with me and care for her until she has fully recovered."

But Varian had little to say in the matter. With Djinjer still in his arms, Zathaniel stood up and glared at the brown haired man. "Excuse me?"

The man, whom seemed to be of some importance, smiled slyly at him. "I know Djinjer very well and I know she wouldn't mind being in my care."

A sudden heat washed over Zathaniel as he quickly recognized the man to be the same masked man Djinjer had not only danced with, but had nearly kissed. "I won't allow it," he said just loud enough to catch everyone's attention.

"Anduin-"

"But father-"

"Brady, Pomeroy…escort my son to his chambers and see that he stays there." Two men, whom were dressed just as the man before him, quickly moved to each side of the prince, their weapons drawn.

"If you would be so kind as to hand her over to me," the officer before him smiled again, but a strong fury filled Zathaniel. He quickly found himself evaluating the man before him. What was it about him that Djinjer liked?

Zathaniel didn't know what came over him, but without so much as a warning, he basically forced Djinjer into King Varian's arms and took two steps towards the man. "I think not," Zathaniel snarled out.

"Lucky for me, I don't care what you think," the man murmured back, glaring at him. "Djinjer and I are _very_ close, which is something I doubt you could ever understand. Now, excuse me…" He grabbed Zathaniel's left shoulder and essentially shoved him back, which was perhaps the officer's worst decision.

Zathaniel didn't quite know how it came to happen, but one moment the officer was shoving him and the next, they were in a full blown fist fight. He remembered people shouting at them to stop…who had pulled him off of the officer? Crowley and King Greymane, right?

Zathaniel sighed and tongued the wound of his bottom lip. That officer definitely knew how to throw a punch. As her footsteps came nearer, Zathaniel froze. She cleared her throat…Brutus whined…but still, he couldn't bring himself to turn around and face her. The things he had said to her…

Again, Djinjer cleared her throat, but this time, Zathaniel looked over his shoulder at her. He was right. She was wearing her older, awful gear-gear that had been replaced by the Wrynn family at recommendation of Prince Anduin. Apparently, Djinjer didn't think the new set belonged to her. Meanwhile, Djinjer was fighting for something to say, that was more than obvious.

Though Zathaniel was angry and bitter towards Djinjer, he couldn't hate her…he couldn't bring himself to hurt her anymore than he already had. Instead, he decided to push aside all feelings and become numb. It was the easiest way to handle any situation. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Was his voice as emotionless as he felt? Djinjer must have thought so. She paled and looked away from him. Zathaniel turned his attention back to the fishing pole; still no bite. At this rate, they would go hungry. "Great, I guess," she finally replied. "I mean…anything is better than dead."

"That gear in the tent-"

"I was just going to ask you about that." Djinjer interrupted.

Zathaniel grinned, "It's yours."

"_WHAT?_" Djinjer shrieked. "Did you buy it? You can't have bought it! You shouldn't have if you did! It must have been so-"

"Thanks for scaring away the fish," Zathaniel sighed out. "I didn't buy it, Djinjer. Calm down." He looked over his shoulder to find her staring at the tent, as if waiting for the armor to come prancing out of it. "It's a gift from the Wrynn family. After all, you _did_ help protect the prince."

"But so did everyone else," Djinjer replied softly.

"And they got their payments as well," he replied, turning his attention back to the fish. With a sigh he placed the fishing pole beside him and gave up; he wasn't going to catch anything. "You didn't _just_ get a full set of armor, Djinjer. If you look inside your bag, you'll find a hefty amount of gold." She looked at him once, then back at the tent. "Check it out, Djinjer."

Djinjer could only stare at the armor in awe as she pushed aside the flap of the tent. "Go," she heard Zathaniel say from his stool. She didn't know why she felt nervous as she knelt down in front of the armor. It didn't make much sense to her. Yet there she was, trembling as she removed her gear. She sighed once and then slowly began putting on the much heavier plate armor.

When Djinjer finally stood up and fitted on the remaining pieces, she noticed one major difference: Plate Armor affected _everything_; from the way she stood to the way she breathed. Had she put this armor on when she first started as a warrior in Gilneas, she would have _never_ been able to move! Even now it was a bit difficult, but Djinjer was determined to wear the gear proudly. She pushed through the tent and walked over to Zathaniel, grinning.

"What do you think?" She asked, attempting to spin in a circle. Instead of spinning, it was more like clumsy turning.

He stood and steadied her before Djinjer could make a fool of herself. "Looks good," Zathaniel murmured, flicking the plate shoulder piece with his middle finger. "You'll be indestructible, Djinjer."

"Good," she chuckled, placing a hand on her abdomen. "I don't trust cloth anymore." Zathaniel hesitated for a second before he sat down again, staring up at her from the stool. "What?" She smiled. "Don't look at me like that. I'm _fine_!"

"Indeed," came the quiet reply. "I never thought I'd see you that way."

"Well," Djinjer snorted, "you did tell me to bleed." Djinjer gasped as Zathaniel sprung up and grabbed her arm, yanking her to him.

"You bloody well know I didn't mean it like that!" he snarled. "You think I wanted something like that to happen to you? If I wanted that, I would have let you die in Gilneas!"

"Perhaps you should have!" Djinjer immediately regretted those words as soon as they left her mouth. Zathaniel didn't react how she thought he would have. Instead of yelling or getting angrier, Zathaniel released her arm and stepped away from her. His eyes grew darker and for a split second, Djinjer thought he was going to attack her. She only saw this look once: on the evening of Liam Greymane's death. "I'm sorry," she murmured. But he didn't say anything. He didn't even blink. "…For everything, Zathaniel." His eyes narrowed slightly, which made her think he didn't believe her. All at once, Djinjer began explaining everything: from her Night Elf friends, to her annoying encounter with Officer Jaxon. She was panting by the time she was finished…and even then, Djinjer felt like it wasn't enough to convince him.

"I'm telling the truth," she said softly. "I wouldn't lie to you…ever."

Finally, Zathaniel shifted. "Ever?"

"Never."

Zathaniel nodded, "Alright." He quickly walked over to her, grabbed her by her armored shoulders and pushed her towards the stool. He forced her to sit and then walked around her. "Did you kiss Kimberly?"

"What does that-"

"Answer me honestly."

"Yes." Djinjer frowned at him. What was he getting at?

"Did you two-"

"_No_."

"Did you reject me because I was male…or because you didn't feel the same way?"

"That's not a fair question!" Djinjer shouted.

"Fine!" he shouted back. "Why did you pull away from me if you had this change?"

"You forget that it happened before I understood it! Hell, I still don't understand it, Zathaniel!"

"Answer my question! You said you wouldn't lie to me!"

"I'm not lying about anything!" she screeched. Frustrated, Djinjer began regretting going to the gala at all. What would have happened? She didn't want to think about it. "Because I didn't know how to react. I…" she took a deep breath, "I was scared. Scared because you were Kimberly's husband, you were sort of my mentor…I had never kissed a man before, not like that at least. It felt wrong because I knew my sexuality…but it _felt_ right…and that terrified me, Zathaniel."

Djinjer actually counted to three minutes and twelve seconds before Zathaniel asked another question. "Did you kiss the officer?"

Djinjer blushed, and that seemed to be enough of an answer. Zathaniel clenched his fists and glared off into the distance. "But _he_ kissed me. I didn't kiss him!"

He chuckled bitterly, "Djinjer…even if _he_ kissed _you_…it's a kiss that you shared. It's never one sided."

Bewildered, Djinjer sat there for a moment as he walked away from her. She suddenly burst up onto her feet and shouted at him, "Don't you walk away from me, Zathaniel Gilneau!"

"I'll do what I like, thank you very much."

"You can't be angry with me for living my life! I didn't tell you to wait around for me and I haven't shown any real interest!"

Zathaniel spun around. "That's the point, Djinjer. I'm not angry with you. I'm angry at myself."

"But…why?" she asked, slowly walking to the water's edge.

Zathaniel sighed and turned around. His eyes were locked onto the beautiful scene in front of them.

Four small waterfalls poured into the pool of water. It was the same pool of water that flowed down into Elwynn Forest and Stormwind City. "I've always chased after things I can't have…and I've always been pushed to do things I don't want. Liam used to joke with me that I had no spine." He grinned, "But it was a sad day when he realized how true that was. I never felt like less of a human being than when Liam saw me the day after I proposed to Kimberly. Funny enough…when the attacks got worse…when the quakes started and the worgen began growing in number, my marriage began failing…my life was never better. Liam and I were always together again. I led the hunters and trained them right…because I _wanted_ to do that for my people."

"It's been _months_ since we've left Gilneas. Everyone is going on with their lives. Everyone is _better_ now that we've settled. But I can't let go. I don't feel right here. I don't feel…" Zathaniel quietly trailed off, almost as if afraid to finish the sentence.

"Like this is home," Djinjer finished. "I don't think everyone is fine with this, Zathaniel. I think most people are just making the best of it."

"You're handling it much better than I am," he chuckled out. "You know…I still wish there was some way I could go back. I wish I could at least give my in-laws a proper burial…take my possessions out of _my_ house. They're all just sitting there."

Djinjer stood there in silence with Zathaniel for a moment. "I thought you had? I mean, you went back to the house."

Zathaniel shook his head, "No. The first time, I had come across nothing but Forsaken camps. The second time, I couldn't bring myself to go in. And losing Liam…" his voiced wavered. "I didn't have the strength, Djinjer."

Again, Djinjer was quiet for a moment, then slowly turned her eyes upon Zathaniel. "Then let's do it. Let's go back to Gilneas."

Zathaniel chuckled. "Abandon our tasks and go to a place that's…what? Being fought over? It doesn't exactly sound like a great plan."

"…But what do _you_ want to do?"

Zathaniel started laughing. "I'd like to go back."

"So would I."

"Hold on." Zathaniel walked back to the tent and returned with his backpack. From it he pulled out his map. "Look," he said, pointing at where they were. "We can take the tram to Ironforge…catch a gryphon to the Western Plaguelands…and then it gets tricky."

"Why?" she asked, looking at the map.

"Do you not study maps? You're an adventurer, Djinjer."

She shrugged. "I study them as I go!"

He sighed and pointed at a large open area. "That is Tirisfal Glades. We'll need to cut through it to get to Silverpine Forest, which is _just_ north of Gilneas."

"And?"

"And _both_ of those zones are Horde territory…not to mention, Tirisfal Glades is exactly where the Forsaken capital is." He began rolling the map up. "It doesn't help that we have _no _idea what's going on in Gilneas."

Djinjer chewed her bottom lip for a second, deep in thought. "I have an idea!" she bellowed out. "Ask your uncle. I mean…you two are, sort of close." Zathaniel tucked the map into his backpack. "I mean, what could it hurt? And Crowley was here…I saw him and Lorna. They're supposed to be in charge of Gilneas, aren't they?"

"We'll see, Djinjer." He didn't sound convincing. In fact, Djinjer was certain he wasn't going to ask their king anything. Djinjer watched him make his way back to the tent. She didn't move as he disappeared inside of it for a moment, then reappeared, removing the tent's stakes.

Slowly, she walked over to him, watching him work on folding up the tent. The tent had been folded neatly into a small square. As he placed it into his backpack, Djinjer decided it was time to ask _him_ a question. Her stomach knotted from nerves and her throat felt as though it had been squeezed shut. "Zathaniel?"

"Hm?" he pulled out a small biscuit and threw it at Brutus, whom caught it effortlessly.

"Do," she sighed, "…Do you love me?" Zathaniel's bag dropped to the ground and he froze. "You always looked out for me. You gave me that sword…" she walked over to him, picking up her own backpack. From it, she pulled out the wrapped up, broken sword. "I still have it." Djinjer sighed softly. "You saved me so many times, Zathaniel. You're still looking out for me now. If you do love me, which I think you do…then we should go back to Gilneas together. Our world fell apart around us, we were turned into beasts," she shrugged, "if we're careful, we can make it back just fine."

Zathaniel grabbed the leather encased sword and slowly unwrapped it. He smiled as light glinted off of the hilt. "Do you want an answer now?"

She smiled back at him, "No, Zathaniel. I think I'll wait until after Gilneas."


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note:** _Alright! So with the holidays and the new patch, I've been working on this a tiny bit slower than I should have. It's actually been done for a bit, but what matters is that it's up now! I know where I want to take the fic in the next chapter or two, so those parts should be out soon. Don't forget! Winter's Veil is just around the corner!_ _For more information abo__ut the fic, characters, or even pictures, please check out my profile for a link to the facebook page :D I also apologize for any typos...I'm sick and my brain doesn't seem to work as well :(  
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She _hated_ the tram. How many times had she thought that? Any time the tram was brought up in conversation, that's for sure. And then what was with _him_? Djinjer stood at one corner of the tram, holding onto the handlebar. Any time she'd so much as slowly glance over her shoulder, Zathaniel was staring at her and for the first time in her life, Djinjer understood the phrase, "smoldering eyes."

Even in the dark, his gaze was intense and made her feel completely and utterly vulnerable. Worst part? He didn't even look away when she caught him staring. He didn't grin either. He just stared.

But there they were, taking the tram to Ironforge. Zathaniel hadn't checked in on his uncle to find out the progress on Gilneas, if there was any progress at all. So essentially, they were going to Gilneas blindly. Djinjer took a deep breath. She couldn't deny that she was nervous. In fact, she was so nervous that she felt queasy and wondered if she was going to vomit.

She wasn't just nervous, however. In fact, she was quite excited…and quite sad, as well. After all, it's not like she would ever really be able to go home. And how could she or any citizen of Duskhaven return to Gilneas without staring at the destruction left behind from the quakes?

Djinjer sighed softly as the tram came to a stop. In silence, she and Zathaniel made their way to Ironforge and still, did not say anything as they made their way to the gryphon master. "Chillwind Camp, Western Plaguelands. Two, please."

"Maps, please!" chirped Gryth Thurden, the Gryphon Master. She and Zathaniel handed their maps over, but immediately Djinjer's stomach felt tight. She had never been north of the Hinterlands. "Well," he cleared his throat. "Seems the Miss hasn' been to Chillwind, sir. Closes' point she has is Aerie Peak!"

Zathaniel cast a glance over his shoulder at her, but he didn't seem angry. Instead, he seemed tickled. It wasn't Zathaniel, however, that spoke up. "Jus have yer stupid beasts follow one 'nother so she can go to wherever!" Bengus, her personal Blacksmith Trainer in Ironforge, wrapped his arm around Gryth and let out a loud belch.

Gryth sighed irritably. "Bengus! I can' be breakin' all the rules n' flight laws for yer friend! She has got to go to Aerie Peak! It's not that far away! There's even a lil' ole trail that she can follow!"

Zathaniel chuckled. "Gentlemen," they looked at him, almost as if bewildered that _he_ would call _them_ by that, "Aerie Peak is just fine. I know my way around the Hinterlands quite well."

"Ya see?" Gryth shrugged away from Bengus, whom winked at Djinjer. He stamped both of their maps and took Zathaniel's payment, but just as he was setting up the gryphons' bridles, Djinjer nearly died a _second_ time of shame. From her backpack came a very loud squeal, which made the nearest gryphon shriek. Everyone stopped to look in her direction.

"_Wot the hell was that_?" Bengus shouted and for the first time, she noticed the tankard in his hand, primarily because he had been so startled, he spilled half of it where they stood.

"Sorry," Djinjer murmured, pulling around her backpack. "I guess Mr. Wiggles got scared."

"Mr. Who-whattin?" he replied, watching as she took out the small piglet from her backpack.

"_Mr. Wiggles_?" Zathaniel asked with laughter lacing his voice.

"These gryphons don't take too kindly to loud or wild animals…or breaking the flight laws!" He shot a glare at Bengus, "If'n ya want to fly, I'd suggest goin' get you one of those trinkets."

"Trinkets?"

"It's a magical device to store your pets happily, Djinjer," said Zathaniel. "I've seen them promoted. In fact, Hunters and Stables use the same type of magic. Before we leave, let me buy you one."

"Won't he be lonely?" she asked, slipping her backpack on while her pet piglet lapped up some of the spilt beer.

Zathaniel shook his head. "From what I understand, wherever they go-it's a nice place. Now wait here, I'll be back. Brutus, _stay_." Brutus sat beside her and snorted at the piglet, whom snorted happily as it lapped up the beer.

Djinjer turned back to the two dwarves. Gryth was setting up the bridles, including some sort of contraption for Brutus. Bengus on the other hand…

Bengus let out a low, throaty chuckle as he smiled broadly at her. "What?" she snapped.

"Oh, _nothin_'," he murmured, drinking what was left inside his tankard.

"That's what I thought," she murmured, sighing irritably. But she knew the meaning behind his look. It was much like the looks her father would give her any time she would spend the afternoon with Jeremaya. The only difference was, her father was wrong; Bengus, on the other hand, was not.

Zathaniel returned with a small, jeweled bracelet. "Wear it _under_ your bracer." As Zathaniel helped get Brutus into his harness, Djinjer quickly removed her left glove and bracer, fastened the bracelet on, then picked up Mr. Wiggles, whom-with a pop-disappeared.

"_Wow_," Djinjer drew out as she stared at the bracelet. Most of the gems were an opal color, except for one-which was light pink with a few black spots. She could only assume the opal gem took on the most noticeable trait of the pet.

"Are you coming?" Zathaniel asked.

"Yes!" she replied, fastening on her bracer and slipping her glove on over it. The two of them mounted up and with a wave of a small red flag, the two gryphons flapped their wigs and took off.

There was nothing quite like flying on a gryphon. At first, Djinjer had avoided flying all together, but after a while, she enjoyed the rides thoroughly. It was nice, being high up in the air, away from danger and able to see the Eastern Kingdoms from a bird's view. Damaged or not, every zone of the Eastern Kingdoms was beautiful and for some reason, Djinjer was always so tickled to see the areas she once quested in.

They arrived at Aerie Peak with no problems at all. Brutus was released from his harness and together, the three of them carefully made their way down the steep trail to the ground. "Follow closely, alright?" Zathaniel grinned at her and threw himself onto all fours-but by the time he actually hit the ground, he was in his worgen form. If Djinjer had tried that, she probably would have landed face first and wouldn't have transformed at all. Djinjer quickly forced herself into her worgen body and dropped down onto all fours.

"Ready," she barked out. Zathaniel, with Brutus following close behind him, took off at an amazing speed. She, on the other hand, didn't. In fact, the plate armor seemed to make her slower than ever. Running took far more of an effort with this gear than it did in her chainmail. Determined not to be a burden, Djinjer forced herself to run even faster, even harder than before. Thankfully, the trail that they were following was easy to see and each time Zathaniel turned a corner, Djinjer didn't worry. Instead, she pressed on and tried to run even faster.

When Djinjer turned her last corner, she saw Zathaniel at the end of the trail, standing there-waiting for her. Coming to a skidding halt, Djinjer stood up and looked at him, panting heavily. He didn't even seem out of breath! "You really ought to work on your speed," he murmured, then quickly added, "You'll get used to the plate. Don't worry about it."

She nodded and the two of them began walking to Chillwind Camp. By the time they reached the flight master, whom stamped her map, Djinjer was ready to run again. "We'll need to be careful crossing through Andorhal," Zathaniel told her, trailing his claw along the path. "And then we have to get through the Bulwark. I was thinking of scaling the mountains around it, so as not to bring attention to ourselves. Then it gets even more tricky." Zathaniel sighed softly and pressed his finger onto the map. Glowing softly, he trailed his finger to the right of the map and revealed another map: Tirisfal Glades.

"I was told this is a watch camp; Death's Watch Way Station to be exact. We'll most likely be seen by them no matter what, especially if we intend to stay close to the road. The only way we can get around them is if we curve north around the camp. Curving south would bring us too close to the entrance of Undercity. But as I said, we may still be seen. I haven't been informed if the zeppelin towers are guarded, but I can assume that they are. We'll be here," he pointed, "and we'll need to go here." He pointed at a small road leading south out of Tirisfal Glades.

"So you've said before," Djinjer replied.

"Yes, but you see this part right here?" he tapped the paper at what looked like a small tower. "This is the Horde Zeppelin that I just mentioned. There are three ships there…always coming and going. I can imagine we'll face a good bit of traffic there." He sighed.

"Can't we just continue heading north and eventually come back around to the road?"

He shook his head. "That would take us too close to Brill, which is a very large town."

"Seems like a suicide mission," Djinjer murmured. "We should have been rogues."

Zathaniel chuckled softly. "You're right. I should have listened to my father and become a rogue like him." After glancing over the map again, he murmured, "Are you _sure_ you want to do this?"

"Are you?" she grinned at him. "We can do this. We have to do this. My only question is, what do we do when we get here?" she pointed at the road leading to Silverpine Forest.

"We'll just have to see. I don't know much about either region, Djinjer. All I know is, I don't want to be caught."

"Then you shouldn't go waltzing into Tirisfal." Both of them looked up at the woman approaching them. She was blonde and heavily armored, wielding a shield and a mace. "I apologize for overhearing your plans, but it's not often we get two worgen soldiers of the Alliance whom just stand in front of the camp, huddled together and talking quietly amongst themselves."

Djinjer looked at Zathaniel, not certain of what she should say. It came as a surprise that Zathaniel let out a bark of laughter. "Hello, Officer Pureheart."

She nodded, "Zathaniel." Djinjer found herself looking back and forth between the two of them. "Are you planning on returning to Gilneas, then?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Again, the armored woman nodded. "I think what you're going to do isn't very smart."

"You have a better idea?"

The brown eyed woman smiled. "Much. Follow me." They followed her around to the back of the camp, to a small hut. There, she opened the wooden door and revealed the same light colored armor that she was wearing. In fact, not only was there armor, but there was also weapons, shields, and even tabards. "If we disguise you in this armor, you should be able to get through Tirisfal Glades easily, but be warned: not even the Argent Dawn is friendly nor allowed into Silverpine Forest."

"I would also suggest moving through the Glades in your human forms. I don't think the Forsaken are stupid enough to believe worgen have already been accepted into the Argent Dawn." She quickly began pulling armor out, handing it to both of them. "Get changed."

They didn't need to be told twice. Both of them, now in their human bodies, were shrugging out of their armor and quickly shoving their gear into their enchanted bags. The Argent Dawn armor was much colder than her own as well as lighter, but she imagined for Zathaniel, the armor was heavier. "Wear the helmets," she said as she untangled a few tabards.

"Any more helpful advice?" Zathaniel asked, slipping on a chest piece.

"Of course," she replied, throwing the tabards over her shoulder. "Don't you dare follow the road in Silverpine. In fact, as soon as you begin heading south, hug the wall of Undercity. I hate to tell you this, but you'll need to go through Lordamere Lake."

"_Through_ the lake?" Djinjer asked and for the first time, the officer looked at her.

"Yes, _through_ the lake. But don't fret. There's an island there that I think you'll be very welcome at. Nearly all of the humans that were chased out of Hillsbrad reside at the island. We've received word that while a great many of them were killed by the Horde, but _all_ of them have willingly accepted the worgen curse."

"What? Why?" Djinjer couldn't believe what she was hearing. _Why_ would anyone _willingly_ accept the curse?

"It was either the curse or death. And right now, the curse is the only thing saving them from absolute slaughter. While the isle may have been a refuge to them, it was also their downfall. They are very much sitting ducks." She sighed softly and turned her attention back to Zathaniel.

"Are they acting on their own?"

"No," she replied. "They've been brought gear, weapons…everything that they need from the Gilneans. These Hillsbrad Worgen are now very much part of the Gilneas Liberation Front and serve under Ivar Bloodfang, as well as Darius Crowley. So rest, do what you must at the isle and continue heading south through the water. Do _not_ approach the western coast of the lake or you will be disposed of. Once you're at Ambermill, you may follow the road south but once you hit a fork in the road, move west, cross the road, and follow the mountains. You'll find exactly what you need there. And again…be careful. The Horde somehow managed to control an ettin and it works as a sort of multiple person transportation for them."

"That's insane," Zathaniel murmured softly, fitting the tabard onto his gear correctly.

"Indeed. Now listen closely. While we do have some of our people at the Bulwark, most of them are Horde. If they have any suspicions about you being there, you can be assured that your presence in Tirisfal Glades will be known. Do not approach _any_ of our people; Horde nor Alliance. Just keep _moving_."

They stood only a few yards from the Bulwark. Though Zathaniel didn't appear nervous, she knew he was. He took a deep breath and looked at her, "If this goes badly-"

"It won't," she interrupted and nodded at him.

"I'm just saying-"

"No. I refuse to listen to you." The look he gave her brought Djinjer back to the very first moment she was ever attracted to a male. She had been waiting for Zathaniel to return with Lorna Crowley, after she had been abducted by the now undead Godfrey and his men. Looking at Liam Greymane had frightened her on many levels, but it all boiled down to one real reason: she had been attracted to him-having fully noticed him in _that_ moment. His look, the way he smelled….

And in this moment, she noticed the very same about Zathaniel, even if the helmet hid most of his face. "Ready?" she asked, snapping herself out of the trance his gaze had put her in.

"Ready," he replied.

She cleared her throat as she straightened her back and got into the position Officer Pureheart had showed the both of them. She held her shield in front of her, close to her chest to display just what affiliation they were with. Zathaniel, on the other hand, had been given a polearm, the blade of it being wrapped securely with the flag of the Argent Dawn. Even Brutus was given a small garb to wear, which-after Djinjer saw him with it on-she literally squealed with joy. He was _adorable_.

Together, the two of them walked in sync, keeping their heads straight and doing their best not to look suspicious. She quickly glanced at Brutus, whom walked between them. Djinjer wondered if he would actually pass as a supply dog. The garb he wore had both of their backpacks fitted upon his sides. The only difference between him and an actual Argent Dawn Hound was the fact that his bags weren't white like the garb he wore.

Djinjer sighed, but turned her eyes forward and continued walking silently. As soon as they stepped through the gates of the Western Plaguelands, Djinjer's heart began thudding in her chest. It was hard not to look around at the occupants of the Bulwark, but Djinjer stayed true to form and kept her eyes forward. "Halt!" someone shouted, though the accent was extremely thick, making it sound as though she shouted, "Hult!"

Djinjer froze and Zathaniel cursed under his breath. "State ya business," said the same thick accent, getting thicker. The speaker moved around them to stand right in front of them, and when Djinjer saw the blue-green troll, she knew their disguise wouldn't work. "I'll say it one more time: _State. Ya. Business._"

Djinjer's throat tightened, and thankfully, Zathaniel spoke up. "We were sent to investigate the Scarlet Monastery, by Argent Officer Pureheart." His words came out over pronounced and in an accent she was quickly growing familiar with. In fact, if she didn't know any better, she could have easily assumed Zathaniel was from Stormwind City.

The troll's eyes narrowed at the two of them, then down at Brutus, whom snorted at her. The troll wiggled her nose, and then, much to both of their surprise, she knelt down. "Good beast," she said, in her foreign accent. It was almost a shock to see the blue haired, red eyed troll smile at the dog. In fact, with the tusks jutting out from her lower jaw, smiling looked…almost difficult. But the troll patted Brutus upon his back and stood up. "Ya best be tellin' that Officer we be wantin' our own beast. On ya go. And don' be expectin' us to send help if ya get yaselves in trouble. We don' have but da tree of us. On ya way."

As soon as the troll walked away, Zathaniel gave her a nudge and together, the two of them started walking along the road. She gave a glance over her shoulder. The troll was talking to an orc in the same armor, but a human female stood on the road. She pointed at her eyes, then pointed forward. When Djinjer turned around, she knew why.

Up ahead, there was a Forsaken camp. "The road to the Monastery is right up ahead, Djinjer. See it?" Zathaniel whispered. Just before the camp was a small trail, which could hardly be called a road. She nodded in reply, "That's what we'll have to take. Seems we'll have no choice but to go around Brill."

Nearing the Death's Watch Way Station, they could clearly see that these Forsaken soldiers weren't about to let them pass. Two guards moved to stand on the road and glared at them, as if daring them to even try. A female behind one of the soldiers said something in what could only be described as a guttural sound. The guard nodded and then, without skipping a beat, Zathaniel turned onto the road.

Djinjer sped up to follow, which caused the female to let out a raspy laugh. "Stay close," Zathaniel hissed. "These Scarlet folk aren't exactly nice, Djinjer."

"Got it," she murmured as she followed him closely. They walked along the old, dilapidated road, which led them around various hills and small mountains around Tirisfal Glades. But as they neared the Monastery, Djinjer immediately began to wonder what horrors could possibly live inside. Bodies, fresh and old, were hanging from trees by their necks, some by their wrists, and others by their ankles.

"There," Zathaniel nodded. Djinjer shuddered, but looked out to the West. "We need to cross the lake…and this is our best chance to do so." Zathaniel gave one last look at the monastery, then moved to the edge of the trail. "This armor, however is going to make us stick out. I think it might be best if we…" he took a deep breath and sighed, "run bare."

"_Bare_?" she snarled. "As in naked?"

"We'll be fur covered," Zathaniel shrugged. "I don't see why it would matter. Besides, as soon as we reach Fenris Isle, we'll be able to get clothed again. Now hurry up."

Djinjer sighed irritably but quickly made her way to the ledge. It was a higher drop than she thought it would have been, but Djinjer showed no fear as she maneuvered her way down. As soon as she hit the ground, Djinjer began scrambling out of her armor. Though Zathaniel did the same as he kept his back to her, Djinjer knew that the hunter was very aware of her near nakedness.

Wearing nothing but her under garments, Djinjer slipped her backpack off of Brutus; shoving her disguise into the magical bag. She stood up, throwing the backpack over her shoulders and in turn, looked at Zathaniel. "What?" she asked, but unlike on the tram, as soon as she looked at him, he looked away.

While tending to his own disguise, Djinjer couldn't help but notice Zathaniel didn't have a single scar on his body. She looked down at her own stomach and inwardly sighed. "Ready?" Zathaniel asked, shifting into his worgen body.

"Yep," she chirped, doing the same.

Together, the three of them ran towards the still, black water lake. She wondered if they really were going to make it all the way to Gilneas. Already, it felt as though they were being too slow and Djinjer couldn't help but think that this was probably one of their worst ideas. Whatever danger their trek brought, Djinjer was at least happy that she had Zathaniel beside her.


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Note: **_Alright! Another chapter finished and I think it went VERY well. I'm extremely happy with it. I had a little issue towards the end, but it's fine. I don't want/need too many details about something minor. Also, enjoy the cliffhanger ^_~. As always, I hope you enjoy and if you'd like more information about the characters in this fic, please check out my homepage, which the link can be found on my profile! Sorry about any mistakes!  
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"I've got it! I've got it! _Don't grab me there_!" Djinjer scrambled up the side of the rocky fixture, which Zathaniel had absolutely no problems with. After having cupped her backside, his hand quickly moved to her thigh, which he tried pulling on in an attempt to help her get up. With one good heave, Djinjer rolled over next to Zathaniel.

"You know, I always assumed you would be good at this sort of thing," he murmured with a chuckle.

Djinjer panted for a moment, "No. My business was in the ground. If you want me to pull you around in a crate, I'm good." He chuckled a little heartier. "Are we almost done?"

"Look for yourself," he replied, helping her up to her feet. Before them were dark, nearly purple stone walls. "That's Brill. If we're lucky, we won't be spotted once we cross the northern and western roads." He motioned to the road just to the right of them.

"Maybe we should just dash across?"

Zathaniel sighed heavily and gave her a hard look. It was one that spoke of clear distress. "The only way to be completely certain of our safety is to cause a distraction." He crouched down, "Once we get a little bit closer to the road…Brutus will do the rest of the work."

Djinjer looked down at Brutus, whom was still on the ground. He spun around once and sat down, letting out a soft whine. "No," Djinjer murmured; her heart feeling as though it were thudding heavier now. "What if you lose him?"

"The Forsaken may be undead beings…but I don't think they're entirely heartless. At least, I hope not." He sighed once more and stood up. "Let's get going. Brutus is becoming impatient."

Both of them continued moving in silence, until they were only a short distance from the road. "Go, Brutus. Bark, get their attention…do anything, boy. And when the coast is clear, you come back to me, okay? Come back to me."

Djinjer had a flash back to the moment Lorna Crowley questioned Elijah of the whereabouts of his own companion. Elijah nearly burst into tears announcing his dog's death. Hunters must have had a strong bond with their companion. After all, they relied on one another for survival.

For a moment, the two of them stared at each other. With a sneeze, Brutus turned around and ran off towards Brill, barking loudly. Zathaniel didn't move. He stared at the guards, which Djinjer couldn't see, then snarled, "Go!"

The two of them launched themselves off of the rocky fixture, only to dash across the street. They continued running around, staying as far from the graveyard as possible. They moved around the town until they came upon a small pond. It was close to the road and opposite of a small house and what appeared to be a decaying field. There, near the pond and behind a small cluster of trees, they hid, awaiting their four legged companion.

Zathaniel cursed softly. "Guards are near the bridge…and from the looks of it, there's movement inside that house."

"How will Brutus know we're safe?" Djinjer asked him softly. He took a deep breath, cupped his hands around his snout and let out a low and long whistle. "Oh," Djinjer chirped, feeling incredibly stupid.

"That should be _just_ loud enough for him to hear. I've called Brutus from farther distances than this. But he was never wrapped up in trying to distract Forsaken. Rest while you can, Djinjer." Though he didn't say it; though he didn't look it, Zathaniel was very much nervous. He sighed heavily, but kept his eyes on the bridge. Even if it was only a few minutes, it seemed to take forever for any sign of Brutus to show up.

Both of their ears perked up as they heard the distant bark. "There," Zathaniel said very quietly, pulling her attention to the left of the bridge. Djinjer slowly crept out from behind the trees and without even thinking about it, she let out a low howl. Brutus burst into a sprint, spinning around on his legs to hop and prance around her.

"You're such a smart doggy!" Djinjer said, laughing softly as she carefully ran her nails up and down his back. He immediately stopped moving and began kicking his leg happily.

"Come, Brutus," Zathaniel said softly. He patted the pup on his head, pulled out a dog biscuit and tossed it at him. Though not as heart warming as she thought the reunion would be, Djinjer couldn't help but give a sharp-toothed grin at Zathaniel. Whom winked back at her. "We need to head south, Djinjer. Remember what Pureheart said. Stick to the wall of their city."

"Right," Djinjer nodded.

Carefully, they crouched low to the ground and moved as quickly as they could along the open fields and roads of Tirisfal Glades. "Look at it," Zathaniel snorted out to her as they strafing towards the tall walls of the Forsaken capital. "I've never seen a city look so ominous."

Djinjer hadn't even really noticed the city, but when she quickly glanced up, her stomach seemed to drop. Is that what their once beautiful city would look like? She didn't want to think about it. In fact, she decided right then and there that she wouldn't think about it anymore, not until they were actually inside Gilneas once again.

Her thoughts were immediately interrupted as Zathaniel let out a loud yelp. "RUN!" he barked. Brutus sprinted off ahead of them toward the lake in the distance. "Don't you _dare_ look back!" Zathaniel snarled, running even faster beside her. Panic began seeping in. Her shoulders and back felt stiffer, as if sensing something was behind them, racing to get to them.

She glanced out at the purple, stone gates of Silverpine Forest. The heavily armored guards were running towards them and for the first time in a _very_ long time, Djinjer felt true fear. "Run!" Zathaniel snarled giving her a hard shove. It was as if the shove turned her fear into sheer panic and all Djinjer could do was run as fast as she could towards the lake.

Zathaniel let out another yelp, but this time, he crashed into her hind legs, sending her sprawling, only a few yards away from the lake. Djinjer rose to all fours, as did Zathaniel, and once more they continued moving. She didn't give the temperature of the water much thought as she and Zathaniel both leapt forward. The water was unbelievably cold; so much so that she let out a whine of her own.

"Go under," Zathaniel breathed out only a second before he disappeared beneath the very steal surface of the lake.

She did as she was told and shivered as she pushed herself forward in the water. Small pellets and long arrows came to a near standstill in front of and beside Djinjer. It was enough to make her want to swim faster, kick harder, and hold her breath longer. By the time her lungs complained for air, both of them were halfway to Fenris Isle. Without even straining her eyes, Djinjer could see Brutus reaching the shore, shaking his fur out. Never before did she have so much envy for a dog.

"That," she breathed out, "wasn't so bad."

"Could have been worse," Zathaniel replied quickly. "Djinjer…"

When he didn't continue, Djinjer replied, "Yes?"

"Would it be too uncanny to ask for help from you?" She wanted to laugh. It was odd hearing such a polite tone in a worgen voice.

"Not at all," she smiled as they peddled through the water.

"I'm afraid I can't swim as well after being shot in both my right arm and leg."

That sentence held more weight than she imagined, almost literally. Djinjer couldn't help but sink a bit into the water, only to resurface. "What?" she snarled, spinning around. Her eyes didn't land on Zathaniel, however. Instead, her eyes focused on the figures on the shore. A single undead watched them, while three more walked away-as if not even bothered by their intrusion.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked. Had she looked behind her, she would have known that Zathaniel was in trouble. It almost looked as if Zathaniel were pulling himself along the surface of the water, rather than swimming. "Just hold on," she murmured softly.

"I may be too heavy," he said in a tone that alarmed her. Zathaniel always appeared very strong to her. In fact, she couldn't recall a single injury that he had sustained throughout the time that she knew him.

"I'm used to swimming in plate armor. What's a little deadweight?" she said softly, hoping to ease the tension. She gave the single undead one final look before she swooped under the surface of the water and came up beneath Zathaniel.

A trembling arm wrapped around her torso tightly. More than once, she felt his clawed fingers retract to their smaller human size. Was the pain so severe that he didn't want to return to his human form? A new feeling washed over Djinjer: worry. What if this journey had been for nothing?

Djinjer used all of her strength to push and pull herself through the water, now carrying the weight of her companion. With as thin and lithe as his body was, she never thought this hunter could ever be so heavy. She remembered seeing Zathaniel and Liam standing together. Both of them seemed so perfect compared to other men she had seen. Guilt suddenly filled her as she trembled, not from the cold water, but from the contact of their bodies.

"There are bandages in my backpack," he murmured softly. Even his voice was beginning to sound weaker. "Potions…there are potions, too."

"We're almost there," she replied, sinking her toes into the cold sandy lakebed. Zathaniel still floated helplessly as she walked through the water, his arm now around her neck. "I've got you," she strained out as she now began supporting his full weight.

As soon as they reached the shore, Zathaniel stumbled away from her and fell to his hands and knees. The now very human Zathaniel groaned and shook in agony and for the first time, Djinjer saw why. An arrow was imbedded into his shoulder; another in his thigh. "They're poison tips," he whispered. "I have to get them out."

"Do I just pull?" she asked, grabbing the arrow at her shoulder. Zathaniel let out a human growl as he grabbed her hand. "_Never. Pull. An. Arrow. Out._" Shaking, he slowly changed positions. He cursed softly as he shrugged out of his backpack. "I'm weak, Djinjer. The poison is acting quickly." He shook his head and from his backpack, he pulled out the bandages and a dagger. "I didn't want to come back to this body…and I'm not strong enough to go back. The wounds are now smaller, tighter around the arrows. Djinjer…" He looked at her with intense eyes as he panted softly. "I need you to dig it out. Slice the skin along the arrow's head…do it fast and without doubt."

It was odd, she thought in that very second, how a person could be completely oblivious of someone's body, someone's near nakedness, when that person was in pain and needed help. With trembling hands, Djinjer grabbed the dagger from his hand and carefully felt for the arrow head. "Do it quickly," he breathed out, taking a few deep breaths. When he held his breath, Djinjer plunged the tip of the dagger into his skin, slicing it as quickly as she could. He gasped in pain as she attempted to pull and once more, grabbed her hand. "The other side," he groaned out.

"Sorry, sorry!" she said quickly, but her eyes were focused on the blood. The poisoned blood seeped from the wound, almost black in color. "I'm so sorry," she whimpered softly, tears blurring her vision. She blinked them back, took a deep breath, and plunged the dagger in again. His entire body trembled only for a second, then tensed up.

"_Pull_!" he hissed, and she did. She expected a scream. She would have screamed. But he didn't. Zathaniel, had-instead-only grunted. But as she grasped his muscled thigh, Zathaniel stopped her again. "Not for this one," he whispered. "It's too deep."

"Then how…" but as he looked at her, she fell silent.

"Push it through. You'll have to move fast, Djinjer, or I could bleed to death right here, right now. Push it through. Break the head off…then pull. If we're lucky, this won't hurt _that_ bad."

"Right," she murmured, grabbing the bandages. Brutus whimpered and whined as he watched from beside Zathaniel's foot. She laid out a few bandages over his thigh and then got down to work. With her right hand, she grabbed the arrow. With her left, she grabbed his knee. She gave him a hard look, one which he returned, and ground her teeth together.

With a deep breath, Djinjer used all of her worgen strength to shove the arrow through his thigh. His reaction was no where near as graceful as it had been with his shoulder. Zathaniel gasped, then let hunched over, letting out a scream of pain. Startled, Djinjer forgot all about what she was supposed to do, but Zathaniel didn't. He gave her a bewildered look, then grabbed the arrow head, snapped it, yanked the arrow's shaft out of his thigh, then quickly began wrapping his thigh tightly.

The blood soaked the bandages and began seeping through. His hands were covered in red, as was the dark sand beneath him. He wrapped it again a second time and sighed heavily, fishing out a small potion from his bag. Zathaniel bit onto the cork, yanked it out, and drank the potion in one shot. Almost immediately, he returned to his hands and knees, and vomited the potion. Again, he cursed. "Djin…jer."

"Sylus!" a woman shouted in an unfamiliar accent. "We need help!" The woman hitched up her robes and quickly maneuvered her way down the rocky shore. "What happened here?"

"He was shot twice by the undead," Djinjer replied. "He isn't reacting to the potion he took and the bandages aren't doing much." Zathaniel groaned and fell onto his side, but not before she noticed the blood dripping down his leg.

"My magic may be able to help, but I'm not trained in the means of expelling poison from the body." She hovered a hand over his thigh and though the bleeding seemed to slow, it didn't seem to stop. "That should help until we get him inside the Keep. Sylus, he's been injured by those Forsaken bastards."

The man known as Sylus, as well as two others, quickly tended to Zathaniel. They transferred him to a cot and quickly began making their way back to the Keep. Djinjer carried his bag and Brutus followed, whining the entire way. It was painful for Djinjer to watch Zathaniel groan in pain and seemingly seconds from unconsciousness. Fear kept her silent.

They received looks, but none of them were bewildered. She followed the men into the Keep and through corridors, but once they came to a room, the woman held her arm out. "It'll be harder for you to see him in the pain he's soon going to be in. It'll be worse for a second…but it'll he'll be fine. Our physician is wonderful."

Djinjer looked at the woman. The woman appeared eager to help and most of all, she appeared kind. "Thank you," Djinjer growled out softly.

"Come, get some clothes," the woman said, walking away from the doorway.

"I have my armor," Djinjer replied, perhaps a bit too harsh.

The priest turned and looked over her shoulder. "I said clothes. Not armor. Clothes to relax in. And get back in your human form so you can attempt to dry off." Djinjer followed the woman to the basement, which was filled with everything from clothes to mismatched armor and weapons. There were also sheets in the corner of the room, as well as towels and what appeared to be linen or wool blankets.

"Here," she said, handing Djinjer a thick towel. Immediately, Djinjer slipped into her human form and began toweling herself off, especially her hair. "Name's Whitney, by the way."

"Thank you, Whitney," Djinjer said softly.

"It's no problem. We'll help any human we can, especially Gilneans. If it weren't for the great Darius Crowley, we probably would have been dead long ago." Djinjer couldn't feel excited to hear about Darius. Her back arched and a shiver ran down her spine as she heard Zathaniel's pain filled scream.

"Here…some fresh and dry undergarments," Djinjer gratefully accepted. In fact, Djinjer was clothed before she knew it. Wearing hideous green pants and a long sleeve white shirt, Djinjer felt more comfortable than she had in ages. She sat at a long table with their bags beside her and seeming to appear from no where, was Brutus. He let out a soft, heart breaking groan.

"I have duties to return to, but know that you are welcome. Help yourself to anything, dear. And also…I'm sorry about your friend. He'll come through this with no problem. We've all had our share of undead poison, unfortunately." Whitney squeezed her shoulder softly, then walked away, leaving Djinjer to sit in silence.

It was agonizing, sitting there, not knowing anyone and especially not knowing how Zathaniel was doing. Since his scream, she hadn't heard a single sound come from the room. Djinjer hadn't been sitting there for long before she started to slip into a sleep. And just as she dozed off, she was shaken slightly. "Miss?" she was shaken again. "Miss?" One more shake. "You can see your friend, ma'am." That did the trick. Djinjer sprung up so quickly, she banged both of her knees against the table.

"Thank you," she blurted out, not even certain who she was talking to or even what gender they were. With their belongings and Brutus at her side, Djinjer dashed through the stone Keep and quickly found the room she had been stopped at.

Djinjer slowly walked into the room, making sure her new shoes were silent against the stone floor. Zathaniel, though sleeping, looked thoroughly worn out. She couldn't help but grin as she looked him over. The bed was too short; his feet hung over the edge of it, but blankets covered him completely. And for the first time since she had saw Zathaniel with longer hair, it was unbraided, brushed, and still slightly damp from the water.

Brutus didn't wait for permission as he climbed into bed, carefully crossed over his owner, and flopped down beside him. The large dog's head rested upon Zathaniel's chest, his ears perked up.

"He'll be down for a day or two," said a soft voice behind her. The man leaned against the door. He was elderly and looked exhausted. "Those damn Forsaken know how to make poison. You don't feel it at first. Then your body begins to feel heavy, as if you're carrying two other people. Then it begins to sting, but not for long. The stinging turns into burning and for once in your life, you can feel every vein in your body. Then it's cold, colder than ice. If it helps any, I've seen people with more wounds and more poison bounce back from this."

Uncertain of if she should even reply, Djinjer merely nodded her head and turned her attention back on Zathaniel. Slowly, Djinjer sat beside her dear friend and placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Couldn't help but notice your scars. What are you? A stupid caster, a clumsy rogue, or an awful warrior?"

There was something about his tone that didn't seem insulting. Instead, it seemed as if he was challenging her, as if hoping to pry information from her rather than simply ask. Djinjer turned slightly, "I'm a damn good warrior that's been through a lot."

The old man nodded. "Don't need to ask what he is," he chuckled softly. He sighed heavily, "Never liked seeing female warriors." Her only response was a glare. "Always hurts the heart when you see them injured."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she asked, perhaps a bit too rudely.

He scratched his balding head then murmured, "Suppose I could go out to the smiths. We do what we can with such little ore. But ever since the Horde killed old Avery Verringtan and his blacksmith apprentices, all of our supplies have come out crude…unskilled." He sighed heavily. "Time to watch in disgust."

He continued standing there, as if waiting for her to reply or simply because he didn't want to go. Djinjer looked at Zathaniel and sighed heavily. It was no good for her to just sit there and wait for him to open his eyes again. "I'll help," she said, standing up. "But I'm going to need different clothes."

Djinjer had remembered her way to the basement and where the clothes were. She picked out a more suiting outfit; a sleeveless shirt and thicker pants. From her bag, she pulled out her leather sleeved gloves, which fastened at her chest. She even slipped on her leather apron, which held her blacksmithing and smelting tools. "And there she is," Seamus, the older man, called out. "I see my directions weren't that hard to follow."

Djinjer, whom was fastening her leather apron, cocked a brow at him. "'Go outside and follow the road east,' isn't that hard to follow." The man chuckled, the men surrounding him didn't seem that amused.

"How is this _woman_ suppose to show us anything?" a man sneered, wearing the same leather getup as herself.

"_She_ has been trained by the Dwarves of Ironforge, Stephen. You lot haven't been trained by anyone." Seamus cackled and waved her over. "Come on, dear warrior, come on. We have lots of work to do."

That work, Djinjer found out, was melting down old horse shoes to create simple weapons, such as swords or maces. It wasn't entirely easy work, but by the time she had showed everyone the proper methods of making weapons and they started and finished their own, dusk was upon them. Djinjer walked out of the smith, into the cool air of the night. "Think we're done for the night, gentlemen," she murmured. "Good evening, everyone."

"Good evening," a lot of them replied.

She made her way over to the Keep, ignored the looks she received from many of the people that were either eating, drinking, or making their ways to the open rooms filled with bunk beds. Finally, she came upon the room she longed to be inside of. There, she found Zathaniel wide awake.

Zathaniel looked at her from the bed and groaned, shutting his eyes. "So _you're_ the one making all the racket," he croaked out in a hoarse whisper.

"Sorry," she chirped out, removing her apron and leather gloved sleeves. "Did a bit of training of my own tonight," she told him with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I'll let you know in a bit…grab my bad and get me another potion." Hesitantly, she did was she was told, uncorked the potion and carefully slipped her hand under his head. With her help, he drank the potion eagerly and almost immediately, Djinjer could see the affects it had upon him. His color returned instantly. His eyes seemed far more vibrant and focused and, much to her surprise, Zathaniel sat up. He hissed and groaned. "Feeling _much_ better, though I'm really sore."

She watched him massage his shoulder for a moment before her eyes moved to the left side of his neck. For the first time ever, she noticed the scar _she_ had given him. It looked much worse as a human and part of her couldn't shake the guilt she felt. But then her eyes trailed down his muscled back, right down to the middle, where she found another scar. This one, however, was much different than the others.

The scar was slightly thicker, and more pronounced upon his flesh than the others. It almost looked as if the skin had been melted, but by what? And then her eyes dropped lower. She didn't know how she held back the scream or even the gasp of pure surprise, but Djinjer quickly stood up and began fishing around in his bag, pulling out clothes and throwing them at him.

"W-what are you-" _SMACK_! "Ugh! My nose! Djinjer, what the hell are you doing?"

"You're better now, aren't you? Get dressed!" She continued moving things around in his bag until finally, she cursed. "Where the _hell_ are your other clothes?"

"Djinjer…you've removed three different sets of clothes as is. What else do you intend to find?" And then it was as if the tables turned. It seemed in _that_ very moment, he understood her actions and even though she wasn't looking at him, she could _feel_ the grin he was giving her. "_Honestly_! I'm _injured_, Djinjer! Don't be such a pervert."

"_What_?" she shrieked, turning around. Everything about this moment made her freeze exactly as she was. With one leg pulled up and covered, the other was fully revealed and thankfully, he was covered where it mattered. His long hair cascaded over his shoulders. Were it not for the gasp she gave when he reached over and cupped her chin, she would have forgotten to breathe.

He brought his handsome face close to hers and for the first time, she truly reveled in not just how handsome he was, but how beautiful. Slowly, he parted his lips and softly, Zathaniel whispered, "You truly have changed, haven't you?"


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note:** _So, this chapter turned out really well. For those of you that don't know, I've been out of town for quite some time and didn't get a chance to write onto the fic as much as I'd like. But I'm back home now and back on track. Some of these characters are original, others are based off of in game characters and a few are actual NPCs that you can look up in the game or on WoWpedia. :P Regardless of where the characters are from, I've based a lot of this chapter off of what I imagine Silverpine would be like after the main quests with Sylvanas. As always, for more information-feel free to check out my facebook page dedicated to the story. You can find the link on my profile. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and have a Happy New Year. :)  
_

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The sharp whistle caught her attention. "C'mon," Zathaniel shouted from the Keep's gates. "We need to get going!"

Djinjer inhaled deeply and shouted, "COOOOOMIIIIIING!" She sighed softly and turned to the group of people beside her. "So, like I was saying... Thank you, again. For everything."

"You just tell him to take it easy. Take breaks often or he'll wear himself out," said Seamus.

Djinjer leaned over and carefully gave the old man a hug, "Of course. I'll knock him unconscious if I have to." A few people laughed, but all waved when she called out, "Good bye!" She jogged down the ramp leading from the actual Keep, then continued down the main street.

"It's about time," Zathaniel murmured as she came to a stop beside him. "I was beginning to think you had changed your mind about leaving."

Djinjer mocked him under her breath, but gave him a smile when he cast a glance over his shoulder. "You know," she quickly said, "I'm not looking forward to the swim again. That water chills you to the bone."

"It'll be easier to swim without the enemy attacking us," Zathaniel said softly and for the first time, Djinjer noticed the slight difference in his stature. He wasn't limping, like he should have been. Instead, Zathaniel walked a bit _too_ stiffly; a clear indicator of the pain he was attempting to hide.

They approached the edge of the water and looked across it. From where they stood, they could see ruins encased in purple light. She wondered what they were and why they were glowing so softly. As if hearing her unspoken question, Zathaniel softly said, "Those are the ruins of Dalaran. The very same Dalaran that was originally part of Gilneas." He sighed softly. "Let's go."

Without another word, the two of them transformed into their worgen bodies and stepped into the water. "It looks like we won't have to swim as far to get to the passage," he said over his shoulder. "I can already see the murlocs."

Murlocs... What strange little creatures. If they weren't so intent on killing everyone, Djinjer would probably think they were quite adorable. "Can we go around them?" She murmured, not feeling too keen on killing what appeared to be an entire colony of murlocs.

Without answering, Zathaniel started swimming more toward the ruins. Djinjer followed closely and for the first time ever, she wished they had tails. Why? So she could latch onto his tail and he could drag her. The thought brought a grin to her face, but Djinjer shook it from her mind, focusing on the swim instead. As they got closer to the land, Djinjer sped up just a little, pressing her side against Zathaniel's. Though he would deny it, it was obvious the swim was a bit of a struggle.

Again, they didn't say anything as they got to their feet and walked onto the cold ground. They shook themselves of excess water and without so much as a glance at some of the Dalaran humans, they once more took off south.

The path they were told about was far more noticeable than they though it would be. In fact, Djinjer wasn't certain they had taken the right path, but as they came up on a few houses, they knew they were in the right area. "Hello?" Djinjer called out, after returning to her human body. "Hellooo," she called out again. The dim lights in the houses were quickly extinguished and from the sounds of it, the doors were heavily bolted and locked as well.

"Hm..."

"Seems they're afraid," Djinjer murmured to Zathaniel.

"I'm not surprised, what with their situation." He responded as he continued walking towards a glowing ring in front of them. It appeared to have completely encircled the town of Ambermill. "This doesn't look right," he murmured. "Djinjer...look at this."

Djinjer tore her eyes away from the window, which she was certain she was being watched from. Quickly, she joined Zathaniel's side and crouched down beside him. "This is a magical residue left over from a protective barrier. This only occurs when the barrier is shattered, not dispelled."

"What do you think happened?" Djinjer asked him.

"The Forsaken happened," said a firm voice from behind them. Both she and Zathaniel spun around quickly, eying the dark skinned man behind them. "Quickly, come inside. All of us shall explain...but please hurry. You never know where the Horde hides."

Djinjer looked at Zathaniel, whom nodded and began making his way to the man. The man, wearing a black robe with blue outline, also held a lantern out in front of him. He turned and opened the door to the house, allowing them to enter. The house was empty, save for a few unlit torches hanging on the walls. As soon as they entered, the man quickly closed the door, locked, bolted it and even placed a few heavy planks in front of it. "Keep your voices down," he told them as he made his way to the back of the room to an unlit hearth.

He grabbed the grate at the bottom and moved it. "It's a tight fit, but I'm sure both of you can manage," he said motioning to the hole in the stone floor. Djinjer quickly slipped through, followed by Brutus, then Zathaniel and the dark haired man. He fixed the grating, then held his lantern out. "Follow me," he murmured as he began leading the way. They went through the stone corridors until finally, they came upon a portal.

"Take these signets," he told them. "You cannot pass unless you wear one." Neither of them refused the man, but she could tell from the look Zathaniel gave her that he was beginning to doubt this man and their decision to follow him. "Now walk through."

Djinjer let out a gasp as soon as soon as she crossed the portal. She was now standing in large town that looked much like a smaller Ironforge. "Welcome to Lesser Ambermill. Granted, there's no sort of mill in this town at all."

"What is this place?"

"It's a magical duplicate the Ambermill above us. Should the Horde find out what lies beneath the houses, they won't be able to enter this portal. I've learned from my father's mistakes. Come. I'll tell you everything."

They walked through the town on their stone roads. Some villagers had small cottages, others had what appeared to be shacks, and a few even slept in tents. "Ambermill was protected by my father, the Archmage Ataeric. He was the one who launched the idea of the pocket dimension...the other magi helped make it happen whenever the Forsaken took over Silverpine completely. But...the plan wasn't perfect. All guards, all protectors wore a signet. All it took was for one soldier of the Horde to find this signet and cross the barrier. Many of our powerful magi, including my father, were killed and turned into Forsaken. I took the survivors and brought them here. Little did my father know, I had this back up plan ready to execute at the moment something happened."

They entered a large building, which appeared to be part of the wall. "My name is Alexander Ataeric," he told them as they maneuvered their way around the house until they came upon a small room which led to a tower. There, the room was quite large and looked over the entire village. "We have a few portals around Silverpine and with the help of the 7th Legion as well as the Gilneas Liberation group, we're now setting up a final portal within Gilneas. Hearing your accents, I knew we could trust the two of you."

"Where are these portals located?" Zathaniel asked, sitting down on a large sofa. Djinjer sat beside him.

"There's the first, which is the one we just went through. The second is in the same place the other Ambermill portal was located, however, the protectors are far more equipped to protect it properly. Only one Guardian holds the signet to cross through the portal. Should the bearer of the signet die, it is magically placed with the Guardian closest to the portal. The Horde, by my plan, will _never_ be able to slip through." He sighed heavily, "If only father had listened to my idea..."

"And the other portals?"

"Another is located in Fenris Keep. That's how Crowley and his men are smuggling goods to them—through us. All of us are doing what we can to survive in Silverpine Forest. We hope to flourish and regain some leverage before it is too late."

"It already seems too late," Djinjer murmured softly.

"Perhaps," Alexander said softly. "But we have to survive long enough for Gilneas to be taken over again. Once Gilneas is completely recaptured, once the protection and guard is rebuilt...all of the refugees from Ambermill, Hillsbrad, and even Pyrewood will be calling Gilneas home. It's our only chance for survival."

"So that's how Gilneas will rise again? With citizens that aren't even Gilnean?" Djinjer sighed and shook her head. "How does this make any sense?"

"It's the only way, Djinjer. Gilneas has been sheltered for far too long. Not to mention...some of these people actually were Gilnean at one point. You mustn't feel bitter," Zathaniel murmured. "According to the map, this is the one."

Djinjer blinked at the blue portal and sighed. "I sure hope this is all worth it."

"Don't start giving up hope now, Djinjer." He said softly, grabbing her hand. They both crossed the portal, and just as they were told, they were greeted by a Guardian.

"Signets, please," she said in a lazy Gilnean accent.

"Pyrewood?" Zathaniel asked, slipping off the signet from around his finger.

"Indeed, sir. Signet, ma'am." Djinjer handed over the ring and with a quick farewell, the two were making their way through the stone tunnels. "Don't be alarmed of the bears," another guardian said from his corner.

Zathaniel nodded at him and continued walking. Once they were out of the cave, they carefully made their way down the trail and found the most amusing scene in front of them.

Two large bears, one was white and dark gray while the other was different shades of brown, were sitting at a campsite, right beside a fire. The humorous part of this was the fact that each of them had a cigar hanging from their mouths. "Worgen druids," Zathaniel whispered softly.

"How can you tell? I mean, besides the way they're sitting and the cigars, they don't look much different than regular bears." Djinjer shrugged at him.

Zathaniel sighed, and for the first time in a long time, Djinjer felt stupid. "I could stand here and school you in how to identify different types of druids but I think we need to step it up a bit. I've slowed us down long enough."

"It was just a few days," Djinjer said softly.

"Good evening, fellow worgen!" Zathaniel called out. Djinjer bit her lip when she saw the brown druid flip the cigar into its mouth. "No need to be alarmed."

"Keep moving," the white and gray druid growled out, spitting his cigar into the campfire. The other hacked and spit out his cigar, wheezing loudly. "You'll give us away!"

"I think if there were any scouts or spies around, you would have given yourselves away. I have yet to see a bear smoke a cigar so calmly. And judging from that scar on your face that I gave you when I was little..." Zathaniel crouched down beside the large druid, "you're looking good, Shaw."

The white and gray druid stared down at Zathaniel, then quickly shrunk down to his side. Sitting beside Zathaniel was an older man with long, greasy gray hair pulled into a ponytail. "Been a long time, Gilneau."

"_Zathaniel_?" stuttered the other druid, whom quickly returned to his own human form. This druid looked more Zathaniel's age, but had the same greasy hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. Both of them wore raggedy leathers and fingerless gloves. "Been too long! Think the last time I saw you, we were what? Thir'een?" His accent was far harsher than most Gilneans she knew, which meant one thing, these two were most likely from Stormglen.

"Too long indeed, Blair!" Zathaniel chuckled and shook the hand of the younger man. "So tell me, what exactly is going on? I mean, I'm hearing so much about the Gilneas Liberation Front and the 7th Legion...and what are _our_ druids doing out here, pretending to be bears?"

"We don't have time to chit chat. Last thing we need is a stinkin' Horde seein' us." The older man growled out, returning to his bear form. "Tell him quickly, boy."

"A'righ! Basically, Old Man Crowley 'as got us on the watch for anything, everything. Horde, 'Liance...ever'one. Suppose to be securin' the route for goods and such. If ya two headin' back, don't take the road. Go by the mountains tha' way and maybe when you're done doin' what ya doin', maybe we can grab a mug or two. Tired of these clothes." He sighed, but then squatted and returned to his bear form. "Jus' you be careful. Ole Horde Leo Sarn over that way, too, but if you're fast, he won' see ya."

"Thanks Derrick, Blair. We'll get a drink sometime." Zathaniel waved at them, grabbed her arm, and quickly began making their way west. They crossed the road and quickly found the path they needed to take. Crouching down beside the large boulders, Zathaniel peaked over it. "There's the Forsaken over there...call me crazy but I think he may be completely unaware of the activity going on around him. And it looks as though he lives there..."

"Is there any way to get beyond him?" Djinjer asked softly, peering over the top of the boulder as well.

"There," he nodded towards the boulders right in front of them. "From there, I'll be able to see everything better, but if Sarn is looking, we'll be spotted."

"He's not looking now," Djinjer said, and without waiting for him, she quickly crossed the gap and hid behind the other boulders. Zathaniel shot her a lethal glare, which she returned with a smile. After a quick glance over the boulder again, Zathaniel quickly joined her. "Damn it," he said almost as soon as he joined her. "Look at _that_."

Djinjer looked down at the ground below them and what she saw made her feel sick. The land looked diseased. It looked as though blisters and boils covered what remained of the trees. Tents, soldiers, large siege weapons and green liquid filled the area. She knew all of these weapons better than she should have. The soldiers there seemed to be on defense rather than planning an attack. There were even orcs manning the siege weapons.

"Do...you think they're attacking again?"

To her surprise, Zathaniel shook his head. "Right there. See that?" Djinjer's eyes found scraps and destroyed siege weapons. There were even a few smoldering tents and from the looks of it, dead Forsaken. "It looks like they've been pushed back...which would explain the heavy defense. We need to move quickly, Djinjer, before another attack happens."

"Right. Lead the way."

"Brutus...think you could distract the old fellow over there?" Brutus snorted. "Come back to me as _soon_ as-"

"I won't be needing any distraction." Djinjer almost screamed as she heard the raspy voice just behind her. "Don't be frightened...and please, don't attack." He held his bony hands up, as if to show he was unarmed. "If you are looking for safe passage, please, follow me."

Djinjer couldn't help but look away. His lack of jaw disgusted her. Zathaniel, however, didn't seem phased by it. "Who are you...and why are you helping us? How do we know you won't run to the Horde down there and alert them of our presence?"

"My name is Leo Sarn."

"That's right," Djinjer murmured. "Remember-"

"Yes," Zathaniel snapped, almost angrily.

"_Sarn_." The Forsaken repeated. "As in Sarn's Baked Goods."

Both of their eyes widened as they looked at the being in front of them. "Best baked goods in all Gilneas," Djinjer murmured. "My family supplied your corn...sometimes pumpkins."

"I'd recognize you anywhere," Leo rasped out. "Djinjer Foreman." He shook his head. "I might be part of the Horde now...but I have no ill will toward my people. I live here, in this pass, because it's the closest I can get to being home without being killed by either side. Come with me." He waved his half flesh covered hand at them and walked away.

"How did this happen?" Zathaniel asked softly.

"How do you think?" he let out a gravelly laugh. "When the Horde had control of Gilneas, they took the bodies of the dead and brought them back. Back to the Forsaken Front and resurrected them...us. Many of them," he shook his head, "went right along with the Horde as new soldiers. But some of us, those that clung onto the human inside of us, we do not and cannot fight our people. I'm a merchant for the Horde, but I will help any Gilnean in need."

"Thank you," Zathaniel said as they came to a stop. "What can we do to repay you?"

Leo looked around, his tongue wagging in the stagnant air. He sighed throatily and turned his golden eyes back to Zathaniel. "If you see any of _my_ kind in there, don't be so quick to attack. Some of us, like myself, were turned _inside_ of Gilneas. Before I left to join the Horde, I heard rumor that some of my kind are hiding...in their homes or businesses...even the wilderness."

"Thank you, Leo," Zathaniel placed his hand upon Sarn's shoulder.

"If you're looking for the Crowley's, they're not down below. But you _will_ find people that will help you. Now go. Be safe and be quick."

It was hard to look at Leo as he was now. The Leo Sarn that she remembered looked nothing like this creature before them. Leo Sarn was a man her father grew up with. He was a bit round in the middle, and he had lost a lot of his hair, but he was always smiling. His shop always smelled heavenly and more than once, he traded with her family even when he didn't need corn or pumpkins. He did it to help them.

"Be safe," Djinjer said to him, her throat feeling tight.

Carefully, Zathaniel and Djinjer made their way down to the many Gilnean camps. When they landed, they quickly made their way to the nearest tents, only to find them abandoned—but not completely. The campfire was still feeding from fresh wood, which meant people had to have been around...but where? Zathaniel and Djinjer continued moving from camp to camp until finally, they found what they were looking for.

Not entirely too far from them was the entire Liberation front. They were gathered with soldiers wearing white and silver armor and in the middle was a man and a woman. As Zathaniel and Djinjer got closer to the group, they could pick up on what was being said. "He continues to say that we must continue the search for Gilnean corpses. We cannot allow the Forsaken to get their boney fingers on our dead." The woman looked up and the heavily armored man. "We must send messengers into Gilneas."

"Aye," said the man. "But how many? We cannot risk losing our advantage. If the Horde sees a decline in our numbers, they will most definitely attack again. I mean no offense, but I do not want to see my soldiers turned into Worgen."

"There is no offense taken, High Commander Wyrmbane. I wouldn't wish the curse on anyone, but you _do_ understand that we are doing what we must, for our people to survive." She tilted her head upwards, showing pride and nothing less.

"My dear Zowski, I completely understand. How many messengers will we send?"

"What exactly needs to be done?" called out Zathaniel. Almost everyone turned to look. The armored blonde woman pushed her way through the crowed with the High Commander right behind her. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing spying on us?"

"I am by no means spying," Zathaniel said in a tone that startled her. "I am the nephew of Genn Greymane and if there is anything my comrade and myself can do to help my people, you can be damn sure I'll be part of it."

"I am not entirely Gilnean," the woman said, "But Lorna Crowley has left me in charge. Unfortunately, Commander Crowley tends to do things on her own with no means of contact being available. We have just gotten word from her father and we desperately need this," she held up the scroll case, "to be given to her personally."

"Consider the job done. I will track her down," Zathaniel reached for the scroll case, but the High Commander snatched it from this "Zowski" woman's hand.

"And how do we know we can trust you? You _say_ you are Greymane's nephew, but what proof do we have?"

"You have nothing but my word...although I assure you, were either Crowley here, they would be happy to see both of us." Zathaniel once more reached out for the scroll case. "And if you find either of us to be a traitor, which we aren't, then you have more than enough men to kill both of us."

"That may be so," the High Commander murmured, "but we have another topic to bring up. How will you know where to go? Commander Crowley could be anywhere inside Gilneas...and there _are_ still some Forsaken groups hiding out within the walls."

"I know Gilneas and Lorna...better than you ever can." And with that said, Zathaniel snatched the scroll out from the High Commander's hand. "Keep your people here and together. Fight strong. For the Alliance!"

"For the Alliance!" shouted every man and woman there. It startled Djinjer only for a second, but she quickly followed Zathaniel. They made their way through the crumbled gate that once separated Gilneas from the rest of the world. The gate had been there ever since she could remember. It felt wrong and sickening to see it broken apart and even more so: to be crossing _into _Gilneas.


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note:** _Alright! So! I did a bit of research for this fic and you know, you can actually find the tombstone mentioned at the end in Aderic's Repose. Anyway! I hope you all enjoy! It's sort of a filler chapter, but I think it's still good. As always, for more information and screenshots of in-game areas/characters, please check out my profile for the Facebook link :) I apologize for any spelling mistakes.  
_

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Once, there was a time when this view of Gilneas would make her shiver. She would smile and sigh as serenity filled her. But that time was most definitely over. Djinjer stared down the main road and all she could feel was horror and disgust. Nonfunctional siege weapons and mobile plague tanks filled the roads. The bodies of dead Forsaken and Orcs could be seen rotting and decaying. Some bodies and weapons were still burning. Djinjer looked away as she saw the human bodies of dead worgen. Some looked as though they were eaten from, others looked horribly disfigured. But the smell... The smell of death, decay, and burning flesh filled her nostrils.

"This is sickening," she murmured softly.

"Wait here," Zathaniel said from behind her. She didn't move. Instead, Djinjer continued to look around her. Was Gilneas always so foggy? Did it always look so gloomy? She didn't remember the weather being this way.

A loud cracking sound startled her, but with a closer look, she saw it was nothing but a beam from the nearest house, if you could even call it that anymore. Mostly burnt to the ground, Djinjer wasn't entirely certain how the remains of the house could still be standing. With a sigh, she took a few steps forward and stared at the house on the right side of the road. It was still perfectly in tact. In fact, it didn't look as though it were damaged at all and judging from the illuminated windows, someone either lived in it or it was being used as a base.

Even from where she stood, so very close to her beloved city, Djinjer could hardly make out the gates and roads. "Djinjer!" Zathaniel called out. "It seems luck is on our side!" She looked over at him, only to find him standing with another worgen. Judging from the worgen's looks, she would have easily considered him feral, but it appeared he knew this worgen.

It almost looked silly, seeing Zathaniel's pleased expression as the worgen beside him waved almost happily. With a frown, she quickly walked over to the path from the road and made her way towards her companion. She immediately took notice of the dead flight master, which more worgen surrounded. They were going through his belongings and trying their best to decipher the Forsaken's notes. "He may have an idea where Lorna is," Zathaniel announced, catching her attention.

"We last saw her going into the city," the worgen growled out. "From the looks of it, she's searching for something, though we're not sure what. She's been awfully quiet...keeps to herself when she isn't giving orders." He lifted his nose into the air and snorted, "Her scents gone, but your best bet is to start in the city."

"Do you think she's depressed," Djinjer asked, more to herself than to the worgen.

"Aye," he answered huskily. "When the Forsaken started digging up the dead and bringing them back, she panicked and had some of us gather as many minerals as possible. If we aren't burning bodies, we're protecting them. And the first grave we tended to was," he lowered his head, "Prince Liam Greymane, followed by Mrs. Crowley. May their souls rest in peace."

"That may be where she is," growled out a female worgen. "We've gathered many bodies...from Duskhaven," her stomach clenched, "and other parts of the city. But now the Commander is set on digging up the dead herself."

"I heard she was heading to Stormglen to take care of the remaining spiders," said another worgen. "Something about from the looks of it, a new Queen Spider may have taken over the Blackwald."

"Alright, well thank you...each of you." Zathaniel shook each of their hands.

"It's no problem at all."

"Anything to help," said the female.

"Let's get going," Zathaniel said to her and with a lazy wave from Djinjer, they continued moving south, deeper into Gilneas. For a moment, they walked in silence, but as they neared the bridge, Zathaniel grabbed both of her arms. "What's wrong?" he asked, standing in front of her. "Since we reached Fenris, you've been fairly quiet."

She shook her head and answered honestly, "I don't know. It feels like we've been away forever and at the same time, so little progress has been made in reclaiming our _home_. We've come all this way just to find out that our people are being turned into monsters."

Djinjer gasped softly as he pulled her into an embrace. "It'll be okay, Djinjer. Things like this will take time to recover from but I assure you, each and every step we take—however small it may be—it's one step closer to taking back our home permanently. Now chin up," he tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes. "Seeing everything won't be easy, Djinjer. But you and I need to be strong. We came here for a reason, didn't we?"

She nodded and with a frown, she pulled away from him. Not even his charm could shake her from her depression. Seeming to sense this, Zathaniel continued walking along the bridge with Djinjer following sullenly behind him. "Look at that," Zathaniel murmured, nodding his head in the direction of the city. "Even from here I can see and smell them."

Djinjer looked in the same direction. Her sight may not have been as good as his, but she could still make out the shapes of tents. "What are they?"

"Humans," Zathaniel answered. "Most likely more Mariners. At least we can't say Stormwind isn't trying to help."

Djinjer took several steps forward before she came to a stop. "Aren't you coming," she asked as she looked over her shoulder.

Zathaniel was staring off to the south. "No, I don't think I am," came the soft reply. "Look over there." Djinjer made her way back to his side, staring off into the direction he pointed. "There's smoke...and that's not just any smoke."

"Isn't that Aderic's Repose?" Djinjer asked.

"Yes."

"But...how are we going to get there?" she asked, watching Zathaniel make his way to the very edge of the bridge.

"Look at this," he said softly, kneeling down. "Shifts and sinking... It's hard to tell if the breaks came from explosions or the quakes." He looked over his shoulder at her, "We're going to have to swim."

Djinjer let out a loud sigh, "I thought you would say that."

"Djinjer," he stood up. "I don't like this anymore than you do." But she didn't say anything. She walked over to the edge of the bridge and looked out into the distance. A large submarine was surfaced near Keel Harbor. How many times would she lean upon the railing of this bridge and just look at the horizon, content with her life? "Careful where you jump," he murmured.

Djinjer climbed up onto the railing, aiming to stay away from any possible rubble hiding in the darkness of the water. "Off we go," she said, stepping off the bridge. Djinjer gasped loudly as she surfaced, just in time to be splashed by Zathaniel and Brutus. The water was colder than she remembered as well, especially for this time of the year. As quickly as they cold, they swam to the shore and climbed out. Even in their human forms, they attempted to shake themselves free of excess water.

"Well, that was refreshing," Zathaniel breathed out, wiggling his ear with his finger.

"I won't be surprised if both catch a cold," she added, pinching the water from her nose. "We need to get dry."

"Get your boots off," he said in a stern voice. "You have to get the water out of them."

Both he and she took their boots off, dumping out any extra water. It was almost a shame that Zathaniel was pushing them to move onward. More than anything, Djinjer longed for a good fire to sit beside. Hopefully, they could get a bit warm with the fire ahead.

With their boots as dry as they could be, the three of them marched onto Aderic's Repose. The passed the Grave Keeper's house, finding that it—too—appeared to be lived in. But then, as they entered the actual graveyard, Djinjer's heart dropped into her stomach, which tightened with disgust. Nearly every grave looked fresh and some had yet to be filled with dirt again.

"Look," Zathaniel said quietly, pointing at the monument. Djinjer didn't say anything in response. Everything from his attitude to his posture changed as he eyed the monument that hadn't been there before. She knew what it was and why it was there. It was in memory of their beloved prince. "There are soldiers near the tool house," he murmured. "Go talk to them."

The tone he used was rude and commanding—it was a tone she didn't like hearing from him. But all things considered, Djinjer paid it no mind. She only watched as Zathaniel began making his way to his cousin's final resting place. "Be safe," she called, even though there was no hint of danger around.

Clearing her throat, Djinjer made her way to the tool house, which brought her back in time. It seemed like so long ago that she was running beneath the underground tunnel that connected the city to this small house. Staring at it, her heart trembled and tears threatened her eyes. Again, she cleared her throat as she forced her tears back. This time, however, the sound caught the attention of the two soldiers.

The two worgen looked up at her and seemed to be evaluating her and the one let out what she could only describe was a squeal. "I'd recognize that mug anywhere! Djinjer!" The light brown worgen rushed out and immediately wrapped her arms around Djinjer. "It's so good to see you!"

"D-do I know you?" she stammered out.

"Well, we didn't have much time together," the worgen chuckled as the male sighed, clearly in irritation. "It's me, Nancy!" With a slight, full body tremor, Nancy returned to her human form. Djinjer only stared at her. "Nancy...you know," the girl raised both hands to her eyes and faked a few sobs.

Djinjer's eyes widened, "_Oooooh_! _That Nancy_!" How could Djinjer forget the sobbing warrior? But then her eyes fell upon the fire that the stood near. It wasn't hard to make out the wrapped bodies.

"It helps if you don't look," Nancy murmured.

"Aye," said the male, joining them. "Name's Jacob Marshall," his accent was thick—much like the druid's. "You must think we're monsters for this."

"No," Djinjer quickly replied. "I had heard what was happening. It's a disgusting...all of it. But if this is what we must do to save our dead from becoming..._theirs_, then by all means—we must burn them."

"Indeed," Nancy murmured. After a short moment of silence, she asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you had stayed in Teldrassil with the others."

"We _were_ allowed to do what we want with our lives, you know," Djinjer snapped out.

"No, I know. But I thought you were an adventurer...you certainly look like one in that armor." What was wrong with her armor? Djinjer looked down at the matching plate armor. "I mean, adventurers have no business here in Gilneas. No tasks...or..."

"We don't have a task," Djinjer interrupted. "Why we came back is our own business."

"'We?'" Jacob asked.

"Zathaniel Gilneau and myself."

"_Commander_ Gilneau is here?" the male quickly looked around. Then, as if being called, the male's head snapped to the left. "That's right...they were cousins, weren't they?"

Djinjer nodded. "Look, we're searching for Lorna. Any idea of where she could be?"

"Yeah," Nancy sighed. "She's at Greymane Manor. Sort of lives there. I've always said we should make the manor our base, but she refuses. Only she and her father are allowed to go to the manor."

"That's because they have permission from King Greymane himself. I heard the king ordered the Crowley's to take care of and protect the family's belongings." Jacob placed his hand on her shoulder, "Listen, if you're looking for Lorna, you'll find her there eventually. And considering you have Commander...well, you have Zathaniel with you—I don't think there will be a problem. If she's not there, just wait...you'll either find her or her father."

"Thanks," Djinjer let out a weak smile. "I'll be returning to Zathaniel now." The two nodded, Nancy returned to her worgen form, and both of them walked off to another grave. Djinjer didn't want to see them dig anyone up and so quickly, she walked back around to the path that led to Liam's grave.

Djinjer was almost shocked to hear the soft sobs as she walked up the path. Almost immediately, they stopped. With his back to her Zathaniel nearly snarled out, "I thought I told you to talk to the soldiers."

"I did," Djinjer said softly, uncertain of what she should do. "They told me where to find Lorna." No response. "Do...you want me to tell you?" Again, no response. "Should I leave you alone?"

He took a deep, trembling breath. "Look at this," he said softly. "Before, there was just a box. Now, he's protected...he was given a proper resting place." He sniffed, then chuckled. "Look at_ all_ of this." Djinjer looked around. There were benches and all around them were bottles. Some were broken, some were untouched, but all were the same brand. "It's his favorite drink...Pinot Noir," Zathaniel chuckled. "Not many people knew it but...he had a taste for liquor."

Djinjer slowly approached Zathaniel, but instead of hugging him or placing a hand onto his shoulder, Djinjer climbed over the bench and sat beside him. "I remember the first time I met him," she said, keeping her eyes on the monument. "Being a farm girl that hated dresses, I was always in overalls...rarely wore shoes. My family was in the city, selling their crops whenever I started playing with a few children. I must have been eight...but I remember I ran right into him. SMACK!" she slapped her hands together.

"Now, don't get me wrong, I had saw him plenty of times before but this was the first time we actually spoke or came into close contact. Anyway...he was drinking something...or holding it maybe and it just crashed onto the ground. The vendor was so angry with me...but not Liam. He smiled at me, told the vendor it was okay, bought a new...whatever it was. I apologized...a lot. I told him I'd work at the manor if he wanted, to pay it off and he patted me on the head. He gave me some candy..." Djinjer chuckled, "And my parents gave me a spanking, believing I had stole the candy. But when I told them the truth," she laughed heartily, "They whipped me again for running into the prince!"

She laughed for a moment long before slowly turning to Zathaniel. She had thought it would have made him laugh, but instead, he was only staring at her. "I remember that," he said in a low voice. A grin appeared on his face, "the dirty little girl with short hair and muddy feet." She blushed. He looked away from her and chuckled. With a shake of his head, Zathaniel's chuckle turned into a happy laughter. "You know, Liam told me, 'Did you see that girl, Zath? She hit me head on like raging bull! That's the girl for you! Just wait until she grows up, she'll be a real heart breaker!' And to think...that girl was _you_...and boy, was he right!"

Djinjer couldn't help but laugh with him. But when their laughter died down and Zathaniel sighed loudly, he asked her, "So where's Lorna?"

"Greymane Manor. If we can't find her there, then we should wait for her. According to those soldiers, they said she and Darius can always be found there." He nodded, but neither of them moved. "You know," she said softly, "it seems like we were meant to be in each others life."

Zathaniel nodded, "Yeah...seems that way." Again, he sighed, "Give me a minute, will you?"

Djinjer didn't say anything as both of them stood. With Brutus by her side, she made her way to the bottom of the trail. She knew Zathaniel needed to say goodbye to his cousin without her looming behind him. "Think this will turn out okay?" she asked, looking down at Brutus.

The large mastiff snorted and sat down beside her. "Is that a yes?" This time he sneezed. "I'll take that as a yes." She knelt down beside Brutus and began petting him. "I sure hope we can make this our home again."

"Are we ready?" Zathaniel called out from behind her. Djinjer stood up quickly and immediately, Brutus ran to his master, barking and wagging his tail.

"Only if you are." Djinjer bit her bottom lip and looked towards the bridge. "I have to admit, I'm not looking forward to swimming again."

"We won't be," he murmured, turning around.

"W-what do you mean?" she asked, watching him walk away. "Zathaniel!"

"Are you coming or not?" he called over his shoulder.

Djinjer didn't answer right away. She stood there, watching him walk farther away from her. With a tremble in her damp armor, Djinjer groaned. She hated getting wet. The clothing beneath her armor always took forever to dry. "Hold up," she called back to him. In no hurry at all, Djinjer walked over and found him standing in front of a tombstone. It was the only grave around that had a stone path leading straight up to the tombstone. Not only that, but there was a square border of stones around it. At the very front corners of the gravestone, there sat two little headstones.

Djinjer stepped closer to see them clearly. "'Here lies the Royal Family Greymane. May their souls rest only in peace. - ABWG'" She looked down at the two smaller headstones. "They...aren't named." Djinjer hesitantly looked over her shoulder. "Who are they?"

"They," Zathaniel looked around, "are no one. Excuse me." As Djinjer moved aside, Zathaniel pulled a small flint from his pocket. He knelt down in front of the tombstone and pulled a dagger from his waist. He struck the flint a few times, lighting one of the three candles. With the lit candle, he lit the others and placed the candle back down. Zathaniel pocketed the flint and sheathed the dagger while the flames of the candles flickered.

"Do you think they'll stay lit?" Djinjer asked, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's beginning to drizzle." Zathaniel nodded, but Djinjer turned her eyes upward. "The sky's dark. ...I used to love this weather. It always made me feel calm and sleepy."

"I'll agree with the calming part," he said softly. "But it always made me feel more awake. Ah, here we go."

Djinjer looked over his shoulder, noticing what he was watching. The lit candles were melting some sort of seal that ran along the middle of the tombstone. Zathaniel grabbed his glove and yanked it off, revealing an intricate ring upon his middle finger. Balling his fist, he placed the ring into the very center of the tombstone and slowly turned it. There was an audible click followed by a grumbling, and then, to Djinjer's complete surprise, the tombstone began opening.

Zathaniel stood up and took several steps back, pulling her along with him. "It's a tight fit at first," he murmured, "but this will get us to Greymane Manor quicker than taking any roads."

"What is this?" she asked as the cobblestone shifted and lowered into steps.

"It's the escape route to and from Greymane Manor. I may not be a Greymane, but I assure you—I know and was trusted with all of their secrets. Ladies first. Oh, and...watch your step."

He wasn't kidding. Djinjer nearly plunged face first into the stone floor with her first step into the pitch black passage. And it didn't help that Brutus pushed past her, almost toppling her over. Only a few steps into the tunnel, Djinjer turned around and watched as Zathaniel closed the doors, engulfing them in nothing but darkness. There was some shuffling and with a few more sparks, they were brought back into the light. Zathaniel held a up an old lantern, illuminating the tunnel just enough for Djinjer to see a few steps ahead of her.

"Keep walking," he said, his voice echoing. "I'm right behind you."


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note: **_So! This chapter isn't the most exciting but it does put certain things in motion. I apologize at how long it's taken to get out but I hit a bit of a dry spot with my writing and then after, I got hit with a horrible sickness that lasted over a week and NOW I'm dealing with a lot of health issues. (cancer sucks rotten forsaken ass!) While this chapter may be a bit boring, the next should be much better! There will be action and something will happen that you will definitely not expect! As always, feel free to friend my facebook page for more information and updates between the chapters! I also apologize for any spelling mistakes. I don't have a lot of time to Proof :3_

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Walking through the tunnel was eerie. The only light source came from Zathaniel's torch and the occasional Ghost Mushroom. The only sounds came from their echoing footsteps and drips of water that seemed impossible to see in the darkness.

As Zathaniel said before, the tunnel became much larger the farther they traveled, but it didn't help her feel any better. It's not that Djinjer was claustrophobic. Instead, her problem stemmed from the severe temperature differences within the passage. At times, the air was hot and suffocating. Then, out of no where, they would get a cool breeze that was more than appreciated. At times, they would stop in large openings to drink from the purified water that flowed through the cracks in the ceiling.

"It can't be much farther," Djinjer groaned out. "There's just no way. It feels like we've been walking forever."

"It's because we've been going up and down, but I assure you—it's much quicker than any other route we could have taken." Djinjer sighed loudly. Her feet were sore and her back ached. Despite having owned her new plate armor for some time now, Djinjer hadn't done anything too physical with it. Now, however, she was beginning to notice just how much of a difference plate armor made on the body. "It's funny..."

"What is?" she asked, relieved that her concentration upon her soreness was broken.

Zathaniel nudged her forward. "When Liam and I were younger, we often took this path and it didn't seem half as long. But...perhaps that's because we were running. Speed up a bit, Djinjer. It's like following a snail."

"That's awfully nice of you to say." But Djinjer sped up and with the next open part of the passage, Zathaniel moved in front of her. To stay in the light, Djinjer was forced to walk even quicker.

"And we're almost there," Zathaniel murmured.

"That's what you said a while ago!" she snarled out, but even she could see the stairs leading upwards with nowhere else to go.

"Hold this," Zathaniel handed her the torch. Again, he removed his glove and again, he placed his fist against an engraving. In the cave, the turning of the lock sounded like rocks grinding together. There was another loud click and then—with a devilish grin from Zathaniel—he opened the door above them. Djinjer looked away, shielding her eyes from both dirt and the light, which immediately flooded the passage. The cool air bathed her and all Djinjer could do was sigh softly in enjoyment.

"Reluctant to leave? I thought you hated it down there."

"Of course I hate it," she snapped out. "Got some dirt in my eyes..." Djinjer rubbed at her eyes for a bit before opening them, blinking them repeatedly as she looked up at Zathaniel. "Thanks for offering to help me out."

He chuckled and held his hand out to her. "You're welcome."

With a sigh, she accepted his help and pulled herself from the grave. Carefully, he placed the door back down and much to Djinjer's surprise, she found herself staring at what looked like a normal grave with a single rose sitting upon the very top of it.

"I didn't know this was here," she murmured.

"To be fair," he walked over to a nearby door, "I don't think you've ever really been here more than once. Locked...sure hope the key's still around." Zathaniel immediately began feeling around the bottom of the door frame until he let out a soft, "Aha," and stood up.

As soon as Zathaniel unlocked and opened the door, Djinjer felt sick to her stomach. She had no good memories of being here. It didn't help that the smell of the stagnant, dusty air only made her realize how long they had all been from home. Neither of them said anything as he walked through the dark, but magnificent room. Another door opened and closed and together, they were standing in the grand foyer of Greymane Manor.

Djinjer looked around, as did Zathaniel. The manor looked empty and far too lifeless. Standing there, Djinjer shuddered. Looking around at the empty room made her feel as though she were staring at the mere shell of once was. "Where is everything?"

"Good question." There was a pause, then Zathaniel said, "Come on, let's go upstairs." It was as if Brutus knew where Zathaniel intended to lead them. He raced upstairs with Zathaniel following the same path until they stood in front of a door at the end of the hall. There were more stairs to her left that she hadn't noticed before, but she paid little mind to those as Zathaniel seemed to pull a key from thin air and unlocked the door.

"This room used to be Liam's," he said as he opened the door. "But Liam loathed the balcony doors and was moved to a room on the third floor. This room was initially going to be the second guest room, but...it sort of became my second bedroom."

The room wasn't quite what she expected. There was an overly large four poster bed in the room, quite obviously fit for a prince with elegant—but masculine—dressers beside it. There were few mounts on the walls of local elks and even the horns of a ram above the fireplace. Large fur carpets were everywhere. One on each side of the bed, including the foot of the bed, another in front of the fireplace and again, another near the balcony doors. To the right side of the room, there was a wall that looked as though it belonged to a gazebo. It was made of thin wood and the top was made of braided branches. She suspected that's where one would tidy themselves up.

All around the room were grand bookshelves and armory cabinets, which held everything from guns to swords and daggers. Of course, what would a room that once belonged to a royal be without a suit of armor? She flicked the steel armor with her plate covered finger and grinned at the sound it made. "I don't know why I expected it to look different," Zathaniel murmured. "It's exactly how I left it," so much so that Brutus found a bone and began gnawing on it. Zathaniel chuckled softly and patted his dog, whom let out a soft growl as he chewed loudly.

"Now, Liam actually picked _his_ room because of this," Zathaniel grabbed the edge of the bookcase nearest his bed and pulled on it, revealing yet another stone corridor. "Our bedrooms connected."

But Djinjer couldn't be fascinated with the doors. Instead, she slowly made her way to the balcony and stared out into the distance. Seagulls were circling and sometimes landing on the pieces of rooftops that stood out of the water. Djinjer felt sick...

Were it not for the slight pressure of her armor pressing against her skin, Djinjer wouldn't have known Zathaniel had placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm not sure if this is going to help or not, but I loved Duskhaven. I may not have gone there often, but when I stayed here, I always watched the town. It looked like such a happy town, somewhere that I could easily live."

"It was a very happy town," Djinjer murmured out. Not wanting to discuss her now destroyed hometown, Djinjer quickly changed the subject. "How many secret passages does the Greymane Family own?"

Zathaniel grinned. "Too many."

Djinjer nodded. "So show me around already."

Zathaniel nodded and held his hand out to the door. "Ladies first." Djinjer gave him a weak smile as she walked over to the stone stairway and began climbing up. "Hopefully his door isn't locked."

"Hopefully," she murmured, pushing on the solid wall as they approached it. Much to her surprise, the door opened without any effort and as she walked forward, she stood in a real royal member's chambers. Even in the darkness of his bedroom, things glinted and sparkled. From what she could see, everything looked absolutely grand.

"One moment," Zathaniel murmured, walking deeper into the darkness. Almost immediately, they were bathed in light as he pulled some heavy curtains open. Just about everything had gems adorning it. Even his bedposts had large emeralds in them. Grand suits of armor stood upon each side of every doorway, making the one in Zathaniel's room look shabby. "Lovely, isn't it?"

"You can say that. You could fit every room of my house into just this one!" But Djinjer didn't say anymore as Zathaniel slowly moved forward. "What is it, Zathaniel?"

He sighed heavily as he walked over to a chess table. "We were in the middle of a game when I was called in to help lead our Rangers. Look at it, Djinjer. Nothing's been moved, nothing's been changed."

"Why would anything be changed?"

Djinjer spun around, withdrawing her weapon, but quickly found that she had no reason to do so. There, in the doorway, stood an armored Lorna Crowley. "Lorna!" Lorna smiled as Zathaniel rushed over to her, picked her up in his arms and hugged her for what felt like far too long. Djinjer frowned at the scene, but quickly put on a smile as Zathaniel looked at her. "I heard you've been staying here?"

As he placed Lorna on the floor, she pulled away from his arms, but continued to stand close. "Taking care of doesn't mean change things around. I do have specific orders, you know." Lorna shot a smile at Djinjer, but her attention was primarily on Zathaniel.

"By the way, I do have something for you," Djinjer glared at Lorna as the brunette woman murmured something under her breath, which brought a soft pink tint to Zathaniel's cheeks. He chuckled, but kept his attention on his backpack, which he pulled the scroll case from. "I hope this is only good news."

"As do I," Lorna murmured, plucking the scroll case from his hand. "It would be rude for me to read this right now." Lorna looked down at the case intently, only to slip it into her belt. "You know," she smiled back at Zathaniel, "I _thought_ I heard someone in the house and I'm not sure why, but my instincts told me to check Liam's room first!"

"It's a good thing you did," Zathaniel replied. "But I thought you had to pack up the king's belongings?"

"Oh, well…yes and no. You see, I'm taking everything valuable from the first floor and packing it up to be moved to either basement or rooms that can be locked. Turns out a few of our less than honorable guards decided to steal a few items and sell them, of all places, in Stormwind City. Of course King Greymane recognized the items sitting in shops or at the Auction House so…we have trusted guards around the front entrance at all times, since it's damn near impossible to get to the back entrances." Then she frowned, "Which reminds me…how did you two get inside?"

"That's a secret," Zathaniel muttered in a flirty tone. "Besides, we're not here to steal anything at all."

Lorna's smile finally faded from her face as she turned her attention to Djinjer. "Foreman, correct?"

After all that they had been through together, Djinjer had a hard time believing Lorna was uncertain of her name. Djinjer nodded in reply. "Be a dear and give us _adults_ some privacy."

It took every ounce of strength, every bit of self control not to snap back at Lorna. Biting her tongue, she gave one stern look at Zathaniel, whom merely looked back at her. With no response from him, Djinjer did the only thing she could do. She balled her fists and calmly walked from the room. Being brushed off by the one person she could always rely on didn't hurt as much as she thought it would have. Instead, something inside of Djinjer seemed to spark. And as she made her way downstairs to the only logical place for her to wait, Djinjer's anger began boiling, like hot grease spitting violently. Her entire body trembled for a moment as she placed her hand against the bedroom door. Something deep inside of her was wanting to get out. Something fierce and untamed was _begging_ to get out.

The growl of Zathaniel's faithful companion caught her attention and immediately, the rage she felt came to a stop. She locked eyes with the dog, whom was standing in a defensive stance. "It's alright," she said softly as her hand cracked and snapped loudly as it returned to its human size. Her anger was forcing her to change...which was by all means, _not_ a good thing. But what sparked this reaction? In the back of her mind, Djinjer could only focus on Lorna and how the woman now seemed ugly and irritating to her. Just what was going on? What was this emotion and why was it so very powerful? ...Was she jealous?

Djinjer suddenly gasped. It was as if a light went off somewhere and immediately, Djinjer began hopping on one foot as she yanked her boot off, then the other. It was hard for her not to run upstairs, but she managed to stay quiet as she crept up the hidden path. As she approached the door, Djinjer carefully pushed on it, cracking it open only just a bit. "Really, it was understandable why you would take care of her-"

"I think she took care of herself well enough," Zathaniel replied almost angrily.

Lorna sighed. "She was your wife's best friend. Your _dead_ wife's best friend. I knew you would stay in contact, but please, Zathaniel. You could be doing so much more than holding her hand through meaningless tasks."

Another fire ignited inside Djinjer, but she said and did nothing. This time, it was Zathaniel's turn to sigh. "What I do is none of your concern. Who I have in my life is none of your concern. ...And Lorna? I do tasks because I prefer them. It's the only way to keep my mind busy."

"To keep your mind off of _this_, right? To keep your mind off of Gilneas, where you _belong_. You were supposed to find your relatives and then return _home_. That's what your orders stated!"

Zathaniel growled irritably. "What's _with_ you? Why are you so pissed? Is it because Djinjer is here? Is it because I refuse to have an every day, constant reminder of what happened here in my face? Or is it because I refuse to be Liam's replacement?"

Djinjer was shocked, but even more so with Lorna's choice of words. She screamed out those two words again, then sobbed loudly. "How could you say such a thing? You think it's easy for me to be here? No, Zathaniel, it's not...but I serve our people, regardless of what they did to my family. Do not forget how long I was without a father because of your uncle."

"Why not bring up _every_ sore subject while we're at it, Lorna!" There was a pause. She could hear footsteps... Zathaniel was pacing angrily. "I can't abandon her. She's all I have left."

"That's a lie...and you know it," Lorna murmured out. "Your aunt is all you have left of your mother's family...and her family is all you have left of Liam. And you've just reconnected with your father's brother." Another pause, followed by a truly heart wrenching sob, "You have your people...so many of _your_ men—that you trained—are _here_. You have people that actually need you. _I _need _you_. _She_ doesn't. You just said so." Lorna took a deep breath, "Why are you running to her rescue if she can save herself?" Zathaniel didn't reply. "Don't give me those eyes," she said softly. "I can't take you looking at me like he did." Djinjer could hear Lorna's softer footsteps against the floor. "_You_ wanted to know what was in the scroll case, Zathaniel. Your uncle, my father...even your distant cousin, King Varian, wanted you here. It's all right there for you to see. That Officer Pureheart was quick to inform King Greymane of your trek. It didn't take long for anyone to come to a decision."

"I came here for my own reason, Lorna. At least give me time to fulfill that. Only then will I give you your answer." When she didn't reply, Zathaniel muttered out, "I'm going to find Djinjer and we're leaving."

"Be certain to let me know as soon as possible, so that I can get back to father immediately."

"Will do."

Djinjer sat there for a moment, allowing everything to seep in. What did this all mean? Was Zathaniel going to abandon his tasks to aid the recapturing of Gilneas? Not wanting to waste another second, Djinjer threw herself to her feet and quickly made her way down the stairs of the secret staircase. After closing the door, Djinjer hurried to pull her boots on, toppling over onto Zathaniel's bed. Just as she took a deep breath, Zathaniel opened the door to his room and merely stared at her. She stared back; the feeling of anger and horror lingering inside of her.

"Comfortable?"

"Quite," she chirped out.

"Come on. Let's go." Brutus didn't need to be told twice. He rushed over to his master and slowly, Djinjer joined them. It felt odd, walking beside Zathaniel, knowing what was going on. Of course, she had to pretend she didn't know anything at all. Once they were on the road again, Djinjer finally popped the question.

"So what was all of that about?" He shrugged in reply. "Hiding things from me now?" she said in a fake-joking tone, one that she fake-smiled with. But he didn't reply. Instead, it appeared he was deep in thought, most likely contemplating the decision ahead of him. "It's nearly dark," she murmured, wishing they were already somewhere warm and far away from Lorna. The hearthstone in her bag seemed to come to mind.

"We'll be in the city before nightfall," he murmured dryly.

Uncomfortable with his monotonous tone and demeanor, Djinjer sped up her walk, in hopes to get to the city faster. She was surprised to see Zathaniel speed up as well, but still show no signs of acknowledgment. In silence, the trio made their way to the city without so much as a sigh of boredom.

It was just becoming dark when Djinjer pushed open the left gate of Greymane Court. It opened with a loud, teeth-gritting creak. "Good thing there are no Forsaken looming about," Djinjer muttered. "That would have given away our location."

"We may still want to move quickly. I don't want to bring anymore attention to ourselves than we already have." Djinjer nodded in reply and just as she thought, Zathaniel began leading the way. It was almost frightening, to be walking through such an empty city at night. In some sick way, she preferred it when the city was under attack from feral worgen or even the Forsaken. At least then, she knew what could be lurking in the shadows.

"Do you hear that?" Zathaniel murmured, pulling her closer to him as he slipped into a small alleyway. "Even if those are our men, they're going to be suspicious of our activity."

"Last thing I want to be accused of is looting Gilnean belongings." Djinjer sighed softly, finding comfort in their closeness, but immediately—that comfort was washed away.

"We're nearly there," he murmured, quickly walking away.

Djinjer jogged to catch up, keeping an eye out behind her. Just as they turned the corner, Djinjer could have sworn she saw a dim light making its way toward their previous location. "And here we are," Zathaniel murmured, making his way to the door. He twisted and turned at the knob, then sighed irritably. "Where did she put the key. The key, the key...where is it?" He shifted around and looked around the door and window frames, then moved on to look under a few vases.

Djinjer watched him for a bit before she approached the door. Just beside it was an elegant plaque that displayed the surname, "Gilneau," in bold letters. There was something there, just behind the E and the A. Djinjer hooked her finger into the G and wiggled the plaque until it came loose and crashed loudly against the ground.

"Bloody hell, Djinjer! What the blazes are you doing?"

Djinjer squatted down and picked up the small key that fell with the plaque. "Found the key," she breathed out. "Sorry about the...plaque." Zathaniel scooped up the plaque, replacing it on the wall next to the door. After setting it just right, he snatched the key from her and unlocked the door. Of course, their little adventure wouldn't be so simple. Zathaniel pushed on the door, but it didn't budge. He rammed his shoulder into it, but still, it didn't move.

"It's blocked by something," he murmured, taking a step back. "Let's try the back door." They tried the backdoor, they tried the cellar, but nothing worked. Now shrouded by the darkness of night, Zathaniel was becoming frustrated and thoroughly desperate. "Blocked or not, we're getting through _that_ door."

Djinjer's eyes slowly raised up to the balcony doors. "And...how are we going to get up there. I really don't think it's a good idea to pile up-"

"We're going to climb a rope," but before she could ask how they would do that without a rope, Zathaniel was pulling a large bundle of rope from his backpack. He attached it to a single arrow and with a bow he pulled from his backpack, he pulled back until the bow looked ready to snap. A flick of his wrist, and the arrow slammed into the wooden frame of the window.

"Will...Will that be strong enough to support either of us?"

"You're doubting my arrows?"

"Well, I mean we are quite heavy and that is just a single, puny arrow."

"So you're doubting my strength, doubting my arrows, and calling me fat?" Even in the darkness, she could see him grinning.

"I just don't feel like being injured," came her reply as she tugged at the rope.

"Djinjer, we'll be fine. I've done this many times, which is why I carry a bow with me at all times. You never know when this is going to happen, besides, who said you were going up first?"

"Well, I am lighter than you."

"So you think," he chuckled. "Don't forget that you're wearing plate armor. You're probably not much lighter than I am."

"...I don't know if I should be insulted or not. I really don't."

Zathaniel sighed as he grabbed the rope. "The arrow is strong but it only supports a quick climber. Don't forget that I've seen you climb, Djinjer. I'll get up there with Brutus and then I'll pull you up. Unless you'd like for it to be the other way around?" He raised a brow at her and grinned when she frowned at him. "Good girl." It was obvious that Zathaniel had done this with Brutus more than once. He carefully helped Brutus up onto his back and without any trouble at all, Zathaniel pulled himself up the rope.

"Make sure you hold on tightly," he said to her as she grabbed onto the rope.

Djinjer wrapped the rope around her hand twice before grabbing it with her other. "Ready," she called up at him. With two tugs, Djinjer was maybe halfway up to the second floor.

"What do you think you're doing?" Feeling such surprise at this new person's voice, Djinjer let go of the rope and crashed to the road below her.

"Hide," she wheezed out softly to Zathaniel. The rope was quickly dropped to full length and as if he were a rogue, Zathaniel seemed to disappear. With a groan, Djinjer turned onto her hands and knees and slowly stood up.

"Looks like we've caught another looter, boys," the same voice said loudly. Djinjer looked to her right, making out the frame of an armored man, but his face was hidden by the bright lantern he held in front of him.

Djinjer took one look at the rope, then slowly turned her attention back to the man that seemed to multiply into three. "Damn it."


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Note:** _Huzzah! New chapter out and pretty freaking quick, at that! I really like how this chapter came together. There are changes in PoV, so when you see a change, I'll have a line-like I commonly have under this part. As always, for more information, please be sure to check out the Facebook page, which is linked on my profile. Also, I apologize for any mistakes made in spelling or grammar._

* * *

"Easy, chaps," Djinjer slowly lifted her hands up as she studied the three men. "I'm no looter."

The dark haired man to the lantern-wielder's left raised a brow, "Really? You certainly appeared to be breaking into a house."

"Only because it was locked," Djinjer murmured. "This is my friend's house..."

"Let me guess," the bald man grinned, "you only wanted to retrieve some of your friend's belongings?"

Djinjer bit her lip and brought her brows together, "No, no...more like saying good-bye officially. Considering you chaps are 7th Legion, I doubt you'd understand what it was like—losing your home, basically your people, and your beloved prince."

Something drastically changed in the atmosphere around them. It was as if she had insulted or even assaulted them. "Don't you _ever_ speak that way to us." Said the light-wielder.

"What's with you Gilneans? Every last one of you, as pretentious as can be. Don't think you can guilt yourself out of this. Keep in mind that it's none of _our_ people stealing from houses and selling the goods. It's _your_ people. It's _you_." The bald one slowly began walking toward her. "As the night patrol, I have every reason to believe you were attempting to loot."

Now fully irritated, Djinjer snapped, "Do I look like a looter? Really? Do other looters wear a full suit of armor?"

"Depends on your definition of armor," he replied. That irritated Djinjer way more than it should have, primarily because it was _their_ royal family that gave her the armor. And what were they trying to say? She looked _very_ professional! "Now, slowly remove the weapons and the bag from your back...take a few steps back and get on your knees."

"How about you lot piss off?" Djinjer lowered her arms and glared at the bald man.

The man sighed softly. "Then I'm afraid I'll have to take those things by force." As he reached out to her, Djinjer quickly smacked his hand away from her. Again, he reached out—attempting to be faster, but again—Djinjer smacked his hand away. Obviously frustrated, the man suddenly charged her, which also proved to be a mistake on his part. Djinjer quickly side stepped him, kicking out her plated foot. Quite clumsily, the man tripped over her foot, stumbled forward then crashed face first into the cobblestone road.

"Do you _really_ want to do this?" she asked him. The answer was given, as the man stood up and pulled two swords from his back. "Oh, look! You have toys? So do I!" Djinjer quickly pulled the large, two-handed blade from her back. Sure, it was a bit crude in it's making, but she didn't need it to look good in order to do damage with.

He dove at her, swinging his blades with surprising expertise, but Djinjer didn't have a problem with dodging and evading his attacks. "I don't want to hurt you!" she warned, "but if you continue, then I'm afraid I must."

"Good luck, girl," called one of the others. "I've seen this man fight men far more formidable than a scrawny girl wearing big boy's armor."

"'Big boy's?' How can you call this male armor when the chest piece was obviously made for women?" she hissed, slamming her blade upon his sword sword. It slammed to the ground noisily, but from his back, the bald man pulled a small shield. "Great," Djinjer replied, gripping the long base of her own thick sword. "Remember," she directed to him. "I didn't want to do this to you."

The bald man grinned, but it quickly faded as Djinjer charged him, then slammed her weapon into his shield a total of three times before it cracked. In pain caused from the reverberation, the man dropped his sword and gripped his arm. "Tell me, does any other looter fight that way?"

Anger washed over the man's face, but as soon as he looked up at her, Djinjer slammed the bottom of her hilt right between his eyes. Blood gushed from the wound it caused, and his eyes crossed before they rolled back into his skull. The man collapsed just as she was suddenly rammed into.

Were it not for her natural instinct to plant her feet, she would have easily toppled over from the force of the dark haired man. This man fought stronger and much smarter than the last. In fact, Djinjer had a hard time keeping up with this man, whom fought as though he were both a rogue and warrior. And much to her dismay, it seemed the lantern-wielder was no more.

By that, she meant that he held the lantern no longer. Instead, the man was equipped with a sword far more grand than anything she ever owned. It was also two-handed and it was easy to tell the metal was superior to her own. Djinjer seemed to dance between the two, blocking their attacks with her pole-arm like sword. Were she to transform, she would be quicker, stronger, and more likely to win this battle, but it was as if something was telling her to save that trick for later.

In fact, the more she fought, the more she realized what a horrible mistake it would be to win against these men. They were the night patrol. That meant others were out there. Others were bound to look for these men. Harming them anymore than she already had meant that Zathaniel and she would be creating bad blood between the Gilneas Liberation Front and the 7th Legion. It would mean that they could possibly be committing criminal offenses.

And just like that, her thoughts distracted her enough for the once-lantern-wielder to slam his fist into her face. That...was all it took. The other man slammed the hilts of his weapons against her back, not so much hurting her as he forced her to her knees. He then grabbed both of her arms, as she had dropped her weapon. The once-lantern-wielder grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head back, which, to her surprise, left her staring into the eyes of her hidden companion.

Bleeding from both her mouth and her nose, Djinjer grinned and winked at Zathaniel, whom had both of his pistols peaking through the shrubbery he hid behind. "Do what you've come here for," she directed to Zathaniel. "This is nothing."

"Nothing, you say? What about this?" The once-lantern-wielder slammed his fist into her face again. Djinjer spat her blood onto the road, but chuckled. "Do...what _you_ came here for."

"Oh, we will," hissed the other man. "Get up, Tompkins."

"To hell with Tompkins! Go through her things! Find out what she's stolen."

Zathaniel's eyes were filled with worry, but again, she grinned. "_Be careful_," she mouthed out to him.

"What are you _grinning_ about?"

Djinjer let out a loud groan as he slammed something into the back of her head. She fell against the cold, damp ground and just before she slipped into consciousness, she wondered...what would they do with her?

* * *

His stomach never felt so tight with nerves, with disgust, with sheer panic as he watched Djinjer engage in combat with the 7th Legion Mariners. He was prepared to kill all of them if he needed to. Quicker than he should have, Zathaniel formulated the perfect plan for hiding their bodies, but something in Djinjer changed. That change kept him from firing his weapons. Frozen, Zathaniel watched in pain and curiosity as she allowed herself to be subdued. Then she turned her brilliant brown eyes up at him and spoke directly to him.

How he wanted nothing more than to pull the triggers of his pistols. "Do what you've come here for," she told him. "This is nothing." Zathaniel turned away as the night patrol continued to abuse her. With Brutus by his side, Zathaniel took a deep breath and waited until the men carried his faithful comrade away. Infuriated with himself for allowing Djinjer to be taken, Zathaniel sat there for a moment feeling disgusted. "Do what you've come here for," Zathaniel repeated.

Slowly, he moved his hand over to the rope and began pulling it up. He didn't need any of the other night patrol to be curious should they see the rope. Having retrieved the arrow and bundled up the rope, Zathaniel continued on with his personal mission.

He carefully looked over the balcony, making sure there was no one to see him. With the coast clear, he grabbed the balcony door's handle and to his surprise, the door opened. He had never left that door unlocked. Then again, he hadn't been in his home for so long _before_ the worgen attacks. He pushed aside the curtains as he walked into his house and immediately noticed that these curtains were not the normal ones. He closed the door quietly behind him and even in the darkness of the hallway, he made his way downstairs without a problem.

Nearly every piece of furniture was stacked against the front door or the windows. Upon exploring the other rooms, he found that they were in the same state. And then he made his way to the cellar, which luckily still had the hanging lantern and matches near the doorway. Though curious to see what was holding the doors so firmly shut, Zathaniel hesitated going downstairs. The last time he had been in the cellar, he had found his mother's body.

Ignoring the tightness that formed in his stomach, Zathaniel lit the lantern and took each step slowly, until he stood in the basement of his house. He didn't need to move much farther than where he stood to see the means of which kept the doors firmly closed. Ropes and chains were wound tightly around the handles of the doors and then wrapped around two of the nearest pillars. The chains were padlocked together and as if it would help or add to the security, two brooms were slipped through the handles as well.

"Brutus...what's going on in here?" Brutus sneezed. "Whatever...or _who_ever is here, they have to be upstairs...hiding. Why don't we take a look?"

It took all of his willpower not to race upstairs, not to shout and demand for the intruder to show their face. He remained silent as he made his way upstairs, checking each and every room until he came upon the last: his bedroom..._their_ bedroom. Hesitantly, Zathaniel pushed open the door and found that absolutely nothing looked different, save for the thick, velvet curtains that hung over the window. He wandered into the room, holding up the lantern.

It wasn't just the windows that were covered, but any reflective surface. A soft gasp caught his attention, making him feel successful in his hunt. There _was_ someone living in _his_ house. "Show yourself," Zathaniel said firmly. "I won't harm you."

Zathaniel whipped around as Brutus started growling. Standing near the room divider, Brutus was staring intently at what he suspected as the squatter. "I told you, I won't harm you," he said as he walked over to the divider, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw as he held the light in the direction Brutus was growling. A forsaken sat in the very corner of the wall and divider. He quickly pulled a pistol from his holster with his free hand and held it out to the forsaken.

"Give me one good reason not to blow what's left of your brains out." But the forsaken didn't say anything. It trembled more and shifted slightly, which brought his attention to what it was wearing. The pink dress was the first frock he had bought Kimberly when they were courting. His heart began thudding as the forsaken slowly lowered her hands, her frightened, golden eyes turning up to meet his. Though her skin had grayed slightly and her brown hair was now matted together and darker in color, he knew just who he was staring at. Slowly, Zathaniel placed the lantern down on the table beside the bathtub. He walked forward and knelt down, staring at his undead wife.

* * *

Djinjer groaned as she slowly woke up. Her head was throbbing and ached the back ached so badly. "First female looter I've seen," she heard a female murmur with a Stormwind accent. "Are you _sure_ she's a looter?"

"We caught her trying to climb into a house," came the familiar voice of the bald man.

"But look at all of this. Her armor is marked with _our_ brand. She has one of those magical backpacks and look! Look at this, Tompkins. It's a map…one of _those_ maps. Here's her bag of gold, dried meats, canteen waters. Are you _sure_ she's not an adventurer?"

"Even if she is, Shaprow, what is she doing out here? We were told there would be no adventurers coming this way unless they were sent by the king or _their_ king." He grumbled something that Djinjer couldn't understand.

"Look at her. Look at those scars." Something about that statement seemed to bring Djinjer to full consciousness.

With another groan, Djinjer raised up on her hands and knees. "She's awake!" shrieked a distinct Gilnean voice. "Please. You have no idea! I'm telling you, she's dangerous! Let me out!"

Djinjer looked up at the man, whom looked as though he were becoming one with the cell door. Djinjer immediately knew where they were. After all, she was sent here to rescue Darius Crowley and his men. The Gilnean looked over his shoulder at her and yelped, throwing himself to the other corner of the cell. "Oh, do shut up, you whimpering fool."

"Rise and shine, carrot," Tompkins hissed out.

Djinjer let out yet another groan as she sat on her heels. "Great," she muttered, looking herself over. She had been stripped to her undergarments and undershirt, which revealed the bottom half of her latest scar. "Don't you gents know anything about chivalry? At least treat me to tea before disrobing me."

"I'll do more than that, carrot!" he sneered. "Look what you did to my face. I'll get you back, you little bitch."

Djinjer grinned up at him. "My, my, my. I think you're going to scar."

"Who are you and what have you come here for?" the woman said as she pushed Tompkins aside. "My name is Heather Shaprow. I'm in charge of reporting _all_ violators of the new laws to Gilnean officials."

"Good," Djinjer sighed as she repositioned herself to sit against the cell wall. "Tell Lorna Crowley you've captured me. I'll be out in no time."

"We've already reported to Commander Crowley…and she said she never heard of you…never seen the likes of you. In fact, she isn't even sure if you're Gilnean." Tompkins grinned. "So how about being honest?"

Djinjer couldn't help but stare in horror at the man. Why would Lorna lie about her? What could that woman want with her locked away? Slowly, Djinjer stood up and approached the door of the cell, ignoring the whimpering Gilnean. "Did…she see me?"

"I don't see how that's important," Shaprow murmured.

"_Did she see me_?" Djinjer hissed out, trembling with building rage.

"Yes…" Djinjer looked away from the dark haired girl, "she's the one that suggested we strip search you."

"What of Darius Crowley? Is he here?" Djinjer snarled.

"Lord Crowley's whereabouts are of no business of yours!" Tompkins snarled back. "Now tell us what we want to know!"

Djinjer couldn't hold her anger back. Clenching the cell door with clawed fingers, Djinjer shouted with the full strength of her voice, "YOU UNLEASH ME NOW OR I'LL MAKE SURE TO RIP OUT ALL OF YOUR THROATS!" Both officers took several steps back. As her face-which had only half-transformed-returned to normal, Djinjer said softly, but firmly, "You tell Lorna Crowley for me that when I see her again…I'll make sure to scratch up her pretty face. Then she'll know how Gilnean I truly am."

* * *

"What happened?" Zathaniel asked as Kimberly poured steaming hot water into his teacup.

"I don't really know, Zathaniel. One moment I was in Djinjer's arms…in so much pain. Then it was gone. Everything was dark…and yet, I felt like I couldn't move on. Like something was holding me here. As if no time had passed at all, I woke up. I woke up with so many others, Zathaniel. People I knew. People I didn't know." She placed the kettle on the stove and sat in front of him. "But I saw _her._ I saw the one they call 'Dark Lady.' We were told we were supposed to be loyal to her. You should have seen it, Zathaniel. So many of our people displayed love…affection…admiration for that monster." Kimberly sighed heavily. "But I didn't feel it. I didn't feel anything at all. I just wanted to come home."

"You fled?"

"No," she laughed softly, but immediately stopped, seeming horrified with her scratchy voice. "They would have caught me if I did something like that."

Zathaniel looked down at the tea, which was quickly becoming amber in color. "So how did you get back?" He looked up at Kimberly, whom stared back at him with pain filled eyes.

"We were going to be taken to a place called Deathknell. There, we were told we would learn how to fit into the Forsaken and Horde armies. Our 'classes' would be picked based upon simple tests…and we were going to leave in the morning. They put us in coffins, Zathaniel. I was so scared. But I strained against it. I fought to open it. And when I did, I found that we were alone in a cellar. I must have stood there for ages, waiting for my courage to surface. Eventually, I walked up those stairs…and I walked out into the night. There was no one around, but they were coming. I hid and moved when I could. I had no idea where I was. I had no idea how to get back home."

Zathaniel reached out and grabbed her cold hand. The Kimberly he knew would have been as good as dead had she been left with a flock of sheep. He couldn't imagine how she managed to deal with any of this. "I met another like myself. Another that wasn't loyal. He told me he was from Emberstone but would help me get back into the city. We swam forever, until we made it into the city's canals. Carefully, we made it through the city but not without trouble." Kimberly looked down at her own cup of tea. "He killed everyone that opposed us. He did, however, get me home. He's the one that set up the basement and blocked the doors and windows. He told me to stay quiet and only search for food near two in the morning and six at night."

"Shift changes?" he asked.

Kimberly shook her head. "Yes and no. Shift change at two. At six, _everyone_ stops what they're doing to eat. I had to be quick. If not, I had to find new shelter. At first, that's what I did. I got only enough food and came back home but now? Now I stay out as long as I can to get as much food as possible. Turns out when you're undead, food doesn't need to be fresh." She looked over her shoulder and his eyes spotted the gray-green bread.

"So you've been…living here?"

"Yes. Of course. This is our home," she murmured. "I've even buried my parents…cleaned up the house. I think I'm a better wife, now." She smiled slightly, but the smile seemed to take a lot of effort. "I know I must be hideous. But compared to the others, I think I look alright. ...I have all of my hair."

"You look fine," he whispered. Kimberly hadn't changed all that much. Of course she was dead, but there was no denying who she was. He looked down at her hands. She was wearing gloves, but he could feel that most of the flesh around her fingers were missing. "So now what happens?" He raised his eyes up to meet hers once again.

"You're back now. I realized what an awful mistake I made letting you go. If you let me…I'll be your wife again. I'll take care of the house while you're away and I'll always be here, waiting for you return. Let me be your wife again. Please, Zathaniel."


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's Note: **_Well, here's the chapter. It took a while because I struggled with the last part, but I think it worked out quite well. I know it's not the best chapter, but I hope you all enjoy. Fun, fun things are soon to happen :3 Point of View changes will be separated by a Line-like below :P Sorry for any typos and as always, for more information and updates on chapters, feel free to friend my Djinjer facebook account! (Link is found on my profile)  
_

* * *

Zathaniel couldn't tear his eyes from those of his undead wife. The notion of resuming their marriage seemed to bring life to her gaunt face, yet horrified Zathaniel. "I…" Zathaniel stood up quickly, knocking the chair over. "I can't, Kimberly."

Her face immediately contorted in pain. "Why?" she whispered. "Is it because of the way I look?"

Yes, he thought to himself, "No! Kimberly…how can I say this without hurting you even more?" He rounded the table and grabbed her chair, forcing her to face him. "Listen, love, I…_can't_ be with you. It just wouldn't work. And what would happen if you were discovered?" He shook his head, "Kimberly, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for caring about me and still caring for our home…but you don't belong here anymore."

Kimberly covered her face with her gloved hands and began sobbing. It sounded more heart wrenching than he remembered and the echoing in her voice made it even more pitiful. "Please, Kimberly, don't do that." He sighed and pulled her into his arms. "I can't take care of you like this. I don't know how I could. If you were killed _again_…by _our_ people…. How could I handle losing you again?"

"Djinjer would have taken care of me," Kimberly cried into his shoulder.

Zathaniel sighed heavily. "Djinjer..."

* * *

Djinjer glared at the man and in return, he looked her over again. Though fearful of her, he couldn't quite hide his arousal. "You touch me and I'll tear it off," she said to him for the fourth time. Immediately his eyes met hers and then he looked away, somehow backing even more into his corner. The sudden snore of the nearby guard caught her attention. It must have been well beyond midnight.

With a sigh, she made her way to the corner nearest the door. "For the love of hell, _go to sleep_," she snapped at her cellmate. She could _feel_ each time he eyed her. With a glance over her shoulder, she found the man facing the corner. She didn't need to be a genius to figure out what that arm movement meant. "Guard," she called. He snorted. "_Guard_!"

The man woke with a start, but quickly glared at her with his bloodshot eyes. "Can't you let a man sleep?"

"Why aren't your people doing anything to get me out of here?"

"You can rest, Tompkins," said the same female from before. What was her name again? Heaven? Heather? Helen? Tompkins didn't say anything as he stretched, then sauntered off.

Heather pulled a stool close to the door. Seeing her up close, Djinjer couldn't help but think she looked too nice to be part of the 7th Legion. Then again, Djinjer was certain she was being too harsh. She really didn't know anything about the 7th Legion, and so far, the only encounter she's had with them was negative. They had to have been good people if they were helping recapture Gilneas _and_ doing their best to keep thieves at bay. "Do you remember me? My name is Heather."

"Of course," Djinjer chuckled. "We talked only a few hours ago."

Heather blushed. "Look…I wanted to talk to you about-" the man grunted in his corner then sighed loudly; Heather seemed disgusted.

"About?"

"About what you were doing out there."

Djinjer lifted a brow, "I told your friend before, I was sort of saying goodbye to an old friend. If the Liberation Front was handling this, they would know her name…they would know her husband's name. Hell, they may even know me as 'the farm girl.'"

Heather didn't seem convinced. "How did you get those scars?"

"Which?"

"All of them."

Djinjer tilted her chin up, "That small scar on my lip? I got that learning how to ride a horse when I was seven. Fell right off and hit the sidewalk."

"No," Heather laughed softly, "I mean _those_," she pointed.

Djinjer looked over all of her scars. She shrugged the shoulder that had been burned in the Wetlands. "Burning house came down on me as I was saving someone. Got a bit of a scar on my back from it as well. And this one?" She tilted her neck sideways, "Got it here…trying to save someone."

Heather frowned as she looked between Djinjer and the now slumbering man. Djinjer knew that look. Heather was beginning to doubt their hasty assumption about her intentions. "And…what about that one?" Djinjer placed her hand on the scar upon her abdomen, trailing her fingers along it. It still felt so very fresh.

Slowly, Djinjer leaned in against the bars, and whispered, "I got it…from saving _my_ princess and _your_ prince."

Some sort of surprise ran through Heather. She stood up and quickly walked backwards, as if horrified. For a moment, she stood there, merely staring at Djinjer. This woman knew something about the incident of which Djinjer spoke of. Heather knew of the near assassination of both royal heirs. Heather knew of their savior…of her; of Djinjer.

Stumbling, Heather quickly walked away from the cell door and quickly disappeared from sight. Djinjer could only wonder what would happen next.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kimberly hissed quietly.

"Because I knew you'd react like this!" Zathaniel snarled back, storming up to the kitchen windows, which was the only entrance/exit available in the house.

Kimberly crossed her arms in that same very manner he had once loved. "You have to save her. I don't care if that means you have to tell them about me. You _have_ to save Djinjer."

"I _will_! I just don't know _how_." Zathaniel sighed irritably. "The worst part is…I wouldn't put it past Lorna to keep Djinjer locked up."

"Ugh. That Lorna woman. I see she's _still_ in your life." The tone Kimberly took was very accusing, much as it had been when Lorna started requesting Zathaniel's presence at his home. "Nice to know that even after I've died, you're still seeing her."

Zathaniel sighed loudly. "I have not ever _seen_ her."

Kimberly scoffed. "You really expect me to believe the two of you _never_ slept together? She was always pining after Liam and when he wanted nothing to do with her—married or not—she ran to you."

Again, he sighed. "Kimberly…must we do this now? Besides, I wasn't the one that threw you out of your own family home for someone else. What happened between Lorna and I was a drunken mistake and that was _after_ you had made me homeless."

"So you admit that there was something there?"

"KIMBERLY!" Zathaniel shouted; she covered her ears. "It's all in the past. The longer we argue, the longer Djinjer's going to be mistreated. If we're going to save her, you need to stay here and—for the life of me—stop bringing up such awful memories!"

Something overcame Kimberly. It was almost as if she had quite literally been shocked. "I can't _not_ think about awful memories, Zathaniel. Since I've become this way…it's like I can't let go of depressing thoughts."

"Kim…" Zathaniel sighed and yet again, he pulled her into his arms. "I will always have a special place for you in my heart, but you and I both know we were never meant to be together. We both need to let go of the mistakes we've made and instead, we should embrace the good memories. Right now, the person we both have wonderful memories with is in trouble. I swear on my life, once Djinjer and I return, we can discuss anything you want."

She nodded against his chest and sighed. "Go get Djinjer…and don't come back until you have her."

* * *

Not much time had passed since Heather disappeared somewhere below. Though her eyes burned and she could hardly keep herself from yawning, Djinjer forced herself to stay awake. She refused to sleep in the same cell as that louse of a man. What was more important, however, was that the _entire_ floor seemed very...unguarded.

Desperately not wanting to wake her cellmate, Djinjer quietly made her way to the other side of the cell and listened intently.

Can't hear a bloody thing from here, Djinjer thought to herself. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder at the snoozing man. It only took a few seconds of watching his breathing for Djinjer to know he was legitimately asleep. Without another second of delay, Djinjer morphed into her true form and crouched down low, listening to the voices she could now make out below her.

Voices.

Voices were everywhere and none of them were heading in her direction. Nearly frantic, Djinjer moved back to the door and immediately slipped her large hand through the bars. She dug her sharp claw into the lock and began wiggling it around, hoping to pop the lock. The lock didn't snap, it didn't click, it didn't so much as even screech against her nail when she scratched at it. Djinjer was by no means a rogue and definitely did not have the patience to deal with lock picking.

Cursing under her breath, Djinjer's eyes somehow focused on the cell floor. Alarmed, she pressed her face against the cell wall and looked over to the next cell. It didn't have a floor like her own! They...weren't in a cell. They were in a cage! The cell next to her had a stone floor and this cell? This cell had bars all around it. Djinjer quietly made her way to the back of the cell where the Gilnean slept and once more, pressed her face against the wall. If she could have let out a low whistle, she would have. Instead, a soft whine escaped from her. It was a long way down, but it would be the only way down.

Djinjer instantly regretted taking a deep breath. She could still smell the Gilnean's scent and it sickened her. Ignoring it, she turned her back to the Gilnean and with all of her strength, she slammed her shoulder into the cell door.

It was too reckless of an idea to have worked.

The cage hummed quietly with the vibrations of her strength. It inched forward, but the door didn't swing open. "_Damn_!" she barked, rubbing her shoulder.

"No bloody way can you open that door!" snarled the man, now very much wide awake. "They put us in here just in case we were worgen and I knew it! I knew you were! You stay away from me!"

Djinjer sighed. She didn't know what irritated her more, his fear or his accent. "Shut up or I'll use you next time!"

Her ears melded to her skull as she heard the voices fall silent. They must have been wondering what the sound was. "Look, this cage kept your kind back when you was all feral-"

"I got it," she growled out quietly. What a ruddy awful thing to find out now. But! Djinjer's eyes snapped down at the floor. From what she could see through the bars, she _had_ moved the cage a good bit. "You better stay down and out of my way...and for your sake, I hope you survive this."

"_Wot?_" But he immediately threw himself into a corner, huddling as low as he could.

Djinjer let out a low, rumbling wave of laughter. Slowly, she turned around and again, with all of her strength, she flung herself at the back wall of the cage and immediately threw herself back at the door. The results were amazing and regardless of the noise it made, Djinjer kept it up. The cage rocked, screeching loudly against the floor as it inched dangerously close to the rim of the prison's roof.

"_What are you doing?_" the man screeched, clenching onto the bars for dear life.

Djinjer kept it up, laughing and barking. It brought her immense pleasure to see her strength move such a sturdy and strong cage. "Almost there!" she shouted. Her shoulders were already aching and sore, but she had to keep going! She had to throw the cage off of the prison roof! And so what if they didn't make it! What a thrill! What an amazing thrill!

SLAM!

SLAM!

SLAM!

The cage tilted dangerously on its very edge, giving them a full view of the fall. She didn't know what possessed her to reach out to the Gilnean, to slash at his chest and bite at his shoulder. His hot blood gushed into her mouth, his high pitched screams nearly deafened her and the cage...it tilted over.

* * *

Zathaniel was extremely surprised to find that he didn't come across a single mariner, nor a single soldier of his own people. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he'd say there were no patrols going on within the city.

He ran through the seemingly empty streets of Gilneas City, to where he knew they would hold any wrong-doers: The Prison. But what would happen after that? Would he have to betray his people to free her? Would he have to betray the cause of the 7th Legion Mariners, who were going out of their way to help them? He hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. Zathaniel came to a skidding stop as he turned the corner to the prison within the Military Quarter.

Standing exactly across from him was Darius and Lorna Crowley. A woman stood beside Darius arguing with Lorna, who stood beside another man. He recognized this many purely by his armor: High Commander Halford Wyrmbane.

The two women were flushed, no doubt from shouting at each other. In full armor, Zathaniel couldn't tell what the High Commander was thinking, but it was clear as day to see what Darius was feeling. He was extremely irritated, most likely with both women and even seemed a bit angry.

Though wary, Zathaniel had no choice but to approach the group. Brutus quickly ran over to Darius, barking happily as he circled him. The two women immediately stopped arguing as he walked up to them, attempting to catch his breath. "Zathaniel! What brings you to these parts? I heard you were moving through your tasks swiftly!"

"Evening, Darius. High Commander...Lorna...," he nodded at the woman. "Excuse my intrusion, but may I inquire what this gathering is about?

Lorna suddenly seemed guilty and for some reason, that instantly made Zathaniel feel angry. The other woman stepped forward, giving Lorna a look before she introduced herself and continued on to tell Zathaniel all about Djinjer and how she was _certain_ Djinjer didn't deserve to be locked up. She then went on to tell the three man that she was, yet again, _certain_ that Lorna—she was quick to point—_knew_ not only who Djinjer was, but what Djinjer had recently done for both of their people.

"In short," Heather took a deep breath, "I don't believe Djinjer should be-"

CLANG!

"What was that?" Lorna looked up.

Nearly everyone was startled by the sudden interruption. It almost sounded as though they were under attack! Zathaniel withdrew his rifle, listening intently. At first, they heard nothing, and then all at once, the clanging started again. "It's coming from the top of the prison!" someone shouted. A few people began making their way into the tower that brought them to the roof of the prison, but Zathaniel had an irking feeling that's not where they needed to be.

A roar exploded from the silence, as well as a pain-filled scream, followed by the most awful sound of metal slamming into stone. Zathaniel and the others ran around the prison just in time to see the worgen burst from the cage, roaring even louder than before. The surrounding 7th Legion members immediately withdrew their weapons, prepared to attack what appeared to be a feral worgen...in panties and an undershirt.

As the Mariners closed in on Djinjer, she climbed from the cage, growling and snarling—prepared to attack. Even her fur stood up, showing how threatened she felt. To be honest, Zathaniel almost wanted to laugh. Djinjer looked cute, with her red-highlighted fur and piercings still in tact. But then his eyes lowered to a whimpering man.

He was bleeding badly from a very noticeable bite wound and his arm looked broken. Trembling, the man pleaded quietly for help. It happened too fast. One minute the mariners were standing there and the next, they were attacking Djinjer. Djinjer dodged their weapons and swung her great clawed hands, carving deep grooves into their shields and armor. "She's in a frenzy!" Darius snarled, erupting into his own worgen form. "We must subdue her without her being harmed!"

"Zathaniel, hand me your rifle!" Lorna shouted over the noise. "One shot is all I need!"

Zathaniel would do no such thing! He ran forward, damn near throwing a mariner out of his way and with one hand, Zathaniel brought her assault to a stop. "Don't," he placed his hand on her snout, "do this. Calm down, Djinjer." She took a deep breath and her eyes...they became more human in a sense. That wild, mindless beast disappeared. "Calm down," he murmured again. "Don't harm anyone else."

Djinjer seemed to be calming down...until Lorna snorted. Djinjer's eyes snapped to Lorna's and immediately, a human emotion filled her eyes. "Darius!" he shouted as Djinjer sprung right over him and dashed over to Lorna.

Darius quickly yanked his daughter behind him and as for himself? Zathaniel threw himself into worgen form, quickly grabbing Djinjer. He bit onto her neck just hard enough to hold her in place and wrapped his arms around hers, pinning them to her body. Djinjer let out two roars before Darius snarled out, "Calm yourself, soldier! Bring yourself to your human mind!"

Djinjer trembled in rage against him, then quickly spat out, "I'll scratch her face off! I'll show her what it means to be Gilnean!" Again she trembled, this time she attempted to break free of his hold. "How dare you? How _dare _you keep me _locked_ in that _cage_?"

"Seems it was needed after all! Just look what you did to that man!" Lorna shouted back from behind her father.

"Lorna," Darius murmured in a low, but warning voice.

"Don't hide behind daddy," Djinjer hissed out. "You think you're some commander?" Djinjer laughed. "You act more like an owner of too many animals. You-" but he didn't hear much else after that. A scent...a wonderful, delicious, agonizing scent suddenly filled his nostrils. Though faint, it was still there. That musk, he knew what it was and suddenly—in this position—Zathaniel could think of nothing more than dominating Djinjer and claiming her as his own.

The thought quickly slipped from his mind as Darius, too, picked up on the scent. His one eye became cloudy, as if deep in thought. Zathaniel couldn't stop himself from letting out a low growl in his direction. Darius blinked suddenly and bowed his head, as if apologizing.

The arguing was becoming too much and if Djinjer didn't calm herself, she would definitely break free from his distracted grasp. He could only imagine that the end results would be deadly to Lorna Crowley.

Zathaniel released the hold he had upon the back of her neck and spoke quickly, "Return her belongings to me. I do not know how long I can hold her! Remove your daughter from Djinjer's sight...bring her _far_ from here."

Though both women shouted protests, Darius swooped up his flailing daughter and quickly dashed off. Immediately, a calmness washed over Djinjer, but Zathaniel wouldn't be fooled—even if his mind was clouded by her scent. "and I _never_ want to be bothered by anything like this again. As soon as this calms down, we will hold a meeting with the Crowley family and demand their daughter be reevaluated for her position!"

"Yes, sir," the woman murmured, following the High Commander.

"Good pup," Wyrmbane said, patting Djinjer on the head. "Someone needs to teach the _princess_ some manners." And with that, he walked off, out of sight.

Zathaniel watched as the mariners quickly escorted the injured man out of sight. He wondered, would this man still become a worgen? And what if Djinjer killed him? He could tell Djinjer didn't feel any remorse as she, too, looked at the man. "Here's her belongings," a man dropped a large bag at their feet. "May the Light protect you...both of you." Zathaniel carefully swooped up the bag with one hand, keeping a firm grasp on Djinjer. The two worgen struggled with one another as Zathaniel forced her through the empty streets of Gilneas. "Return to your human body, _now_. We can't surprise her."

"'Her,' who?" came the snappy reply. But Djinjer _did_ return to her human form, as did Zathaniel.

"You'll see once we get there."

"Can I at _least_ get dressed?"

"At the moment, I don't exactly trust you," he breathed out. "I'll release you when we get there." But that wasn't the truth. He didn't want to release her because at the moment, she felt too good in his grasp, struggling slightly against him. Her scene was not as strong, but it was still there—teasing him. Though entirely under her scent's spell, Zathaniel couldn't help but feel a little frightened. What if he couldn't control himself? What if when she went into heat, he couldn't deny himself? The truth was...he was worried.


	38. Chapter 38

**Note: **_I played with this idea for a bit and finally wrote the chapter out. It sort of prolongs Djinjer and Zathaniel's little adventure. Something big is going to happen...maybe in the next chapter, maybe in the one after that. However long it takes, something big *will* happen soon! Point of View changes will be separated with a LINE. And as always, if you'd like more information about the characters or chapter updates, you can check out my Fanfiction profile for my Facebook page link!_

* * *

"I'm not a child, you know," Djinjer snapped at him as he pushed her toward the kitchen window. "And honestly, Zathaniel, you once fussed at me for wearing very little and now you're going to keep me in very little?"

"You can dress once you're inside," he murmured, damn near shoving her into the window. When she crashed onto the floor and no part of her was visible, Zathaniel sighed heavily and frowned. He wasn't looking forward to any of this. She wasn't even in a full heat yet and she was already driving him crazy. He would have to find some way to distance himself from her. But how?

"Didn't expect the floor to be that hard," she murmured. Zathaniel shoved her bag of belongings through the window. "OUCH!" She hissed and groaned, "Could you give me warning next time you decide to throw something through the window?"

"Look out!" Zathaniel said as he placed Brutus through the window.

"_Ouch!_" Zathaniel grinned.

"You better move it," he said, "because I'm next!" It was unfortunate that just as he was pulling himself into the window, Djinjer was crawling away. The position sent his mind into overdrive, but only for a split second. He had to remain focused.

He finished pulling himself into the window and quickly snapped it shut, locking it and pulling the thick curtains in front of it. "Now, I have to tell you...we're not the only ones in the house."

He turned to find Djinjer slipping on her thin cloth pants. "Well, who else is in here? If it's Lorna, I may just—"

"It's not Lorna." Zathaniel sighed heavily, eying her undershirt. The blood was easy to see, even in the dark. "Wait, Djinjer." She stood up, staring at him in a way that sent shivers down his spine. "You have blood on you," he murmured as he walked over to the bucket of water Kimberly had left out. He dipped a small cloth into it and wrung it out, tossing it at her. "What was that even about, Djinjer?"

Though her scent may have intoxicated him, this was far more important. "I don't know," she murmured, wiping at her neck and mouth. "I just felt like doing it."

"You looked feral."

She shrugged in reply. "I'm not sure what you want me to tell you. Besides, if he wants to act like some noble Gilnean, why not infect him?"

"I have to admit, that's a bit unnerving." A creak from the staircase caught his attention. He knew that creak very well: Fourth step from the top of the stairs. "Listen, Djinjer," she felt around the bag and pulled out her cloth shirt, slipping it on. "I have something to tell you."

"Get on with it," she chuckled out.

"It's...what happened here." Djinjer looked more confused than ever. "I mean, with Kimberly."

Djinjer's eyes snapped open and immediately, she looked up at the second floor. "Her body is still here? You didn't bury them?"

"No, that's not quite it," he sighed heavily. It was very difficult to form the words, even if they were incredibly easy to formulate in his mind. "Kimberly...she's still here...but not like that. She's not..."

Another creak. He knew that one as well and this time, it caught Djinjer's attention. Her head snapped around and her wide eyes slowly became half-lidded. Even in the dark, he could see the tears rim Djinjer's eyes.

* * *

Djinjer didn't need Zathaniel to say anything else. An immediate combination of feelings ran through Djinjer. Happiness, sadness, relief, remorse, disgust...but it all boiled down to one emotion; one emotion that couldn't be shaken from her. Even if her body longed for the touch of a man, her heart _still _quivered at the sight of her undead, ex-lover. Djinjer didn't know what possessed her to do it, but she quickly closed the distance between the two of them and pulled Kimberly into her arms, placing her lips against Kimberly's. Djinjer's lips pressed together tightly as she breathed shallowly in an attempt not inhale the stale smell that engulfed this new Kimberly.

It was Kimberly that pulled away, that put her head on Djinjer's shoulder and sobbed loudly. Depression filled Djinjer as she held onto Kimberly, fully understanding what this meant. After all, the Forsaken had immediately started using their own dead soldiers against them during the fierce battles that took place before they left Gilneas. Why wouldn't they continue? And Zathaniel...

He must have been confused, seeing Djinjer act this way. Hell, even she was confused! But as she turned to look at him, she found him lighting a candelabra. "Let's go to the atrium. We can allow some sunlight into the room without bringing attention to ourselves."

With Kimberly still in her arms, the two followed Zathaniel and Brutus through the house until they came upon an eastern room. As they walked through one of the double doors, Zathaniel held the candelabra out to her. She held it with her left hand, high into the air, in hopes of illuminating the entire room. Her attention, however, was on Zathaniel. He turned a crank and immediately, light began flooding the circular room.

"Wow," she murmured.

"My father had this room built especially for my mother," Zathaniel murmured, grabbing the candelabra from Djinjer. He quickly extinguished the candles and together, they walked over to the chairs sitting beneath the sunroof. "Won't be much longer before it's daytime."

The pale light of the morning didn't show off the room as much as she thought it would have, but it gave them more than enough light to navigate through the room. "I never thought I'd see you again," Kimberly murmured to Djinjer. "I thought you were gone forever." Djinjer didn't know what to say in reply, so she said nothing at all. "I feared the worst...for both of you, for our friends and families."

They sat upon large, dusty sofa while Zathaniel took his place in an oversized chair. "And then I saw...I saw _them_. _Our_ soldiers...but they were beasts. They spoke to one another. They carried weapons. I feared them at first until I saw it," she paused for a moment, "the transformation, I mean. I didn't know if that was what became of you two...but I sort of hoped it had, if that meant both of you survived."

Djinjer looked at Zathaniel, whom looked back with his brilliant teal eyes. They seemed to be the brightest color in this room. But Zathaniel sighed softly and slumped down in the chair, placing his right leg over the arm of the chair. He covered his face and sighed again, seemingly tired. "Are you one of them?" Kimberly asked, gaining her attention again. "Are you one of the beasts many of us lost our lives to? The beasts that both of you fought so hard against?" Kimberly sat up and looked at Djinjer. "Are you both worgen?"

Djinjer leaned over, resting her elbows on her knees. "Yes," came her soft answer. "I am a worgen."

"And what about you?" Kimberly directed to Zathaniel.

"I accidentally turned him...upon my first transformation, when I had no control over myself." Zathaniel didn't budge, he didn't even tense when Djinjer spoke of the incident. "But we aren't monsters, Kimberly."

"I...I know," she replied as Djinjer turned to look at her. "I mean, I think I'm the real monster here."

Djinjer shook her head, "You're Kimberly. I'm Djinjer. He's Zathaniel. We may have changed physically, but we're all still the same." Djinjer smiled at Kimberly, who returned it with a smile of her own.

"I can't stay here forever, can I?" The smile on Kimberly's face turned into a frown and slowly, she turned her golden eyes to Zathaniel.

"I'm sure you could," Djinjer offered up.

"No," Zathaniel murmured, letting his hand slip from his face to his chest. "She'll be in danger if she stays...especially if we fully reclaim Gilneas."

"Then what do we do?" Djinjer asked, sitting up. She scooted over to Kimberly and once more, wrapped her arm around her ex-lover.

"I thought a lot about it," Zathaniel murmured. "And the only thing I can even think of...is we bring her to a place where she can live happily. Where she can be out and about without worrying if she'll be killed by her own people. She needs to be somewhere that others will accept her."

"And where would this mythical place be?" Djinjer asked, a bit too irritated with Zathaniel.

Zathaniel bit his lip, then replied with, "I was thinking the three of us should return to Silverpine Forest and speak with Leo Sarn. He may know of something."

"And how will we get to him? We can't march through the gates of Gilneas with Kimberly. They'll slaughter her. And what of Sarn? He's in the mountains! Any other passage would mean we'd have to go through Horde territory." But Djinjer knew he was right. They had to get Kimberly out of Gilneas.

Zathaniel opened his mouth to reply, but immediately, all of them tensed up. "Did you hear that?" Kimberly whispered, shrinking down beside Djinjer.

Though they were far from the door of the house, it was easy to hear the slamming on the door. "Both of you, stay here!" Zathaniel quickly disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

"What do you think will happen?" Kimberly asked, her eyes wide and full of fear.

"I don't know," Djinjer replied. "I just don't know."

* * *

"I know you're in there!" Slam, slam slam. "Open up, Gilneau!"

It was Lorna Crowley. She was pounding away at the door with her armored hand and even now, as he peered through a small slit in the curtains, she was trying to force her way in. Zathaniel sighed heavily. He knew he would never hear the end of it if either woman upstairs knew that it was Lorna at the door. "One minute!" Zathaniel called out and immediately dashed to the kitchen window. As he came running around the side of the house, Lorna was picking up a large stone. "Do _not_ hurl that at my window," he commanded as he walked forward.

"There you are," she breathed out, dropping the stone as she tossed her wavy hair over her shoulder. "Why wouldn't you let me in?"

"My wife barricaded nearly every entrance to my house, you know, to keep out unwanted people."

Lorna's right brow arched, "Your wife? I haven't heard you call her that in a long time. Unless there's something I should know about Djinjer? Is she Djinjer Gilneau now?"

While part of him wanted to answer yes, just out of spite, but he thought it would be best to stick to the truth. "No. Kimberly."

"I was under the assumption she had died," Lorna walked over to him, her arms crossed. "Or is there something you aren't telling me."

Zathaniel sighed, but ever the quick thinker, he decided to lay a guilt trip on her. "You loved Liam, right?" she shifted uncomfortably. "You would do anything for him, wouldn't you?" Again, she didn't reply. "Lorna...what if Liam came back? What if he was Forsaken?"

"That's not amusing," she said softly. "Not in the slightest bit."

"Lorna, answer me. Would you do anything for Liam if he were undead?"

Everything about Lorna changed. Her attitude, the look on her face, even the way she stood. "Yes," she murmured in a soft voice. "I would do anything and everything for Liam." And then her eyes lit up. "It's Kimberly, isn't it? She's back from the dead?"

"When you put it like that it sounds ridiculous...but yes. I need to get her somewhere safe. I won't have anyone harming her. I failed to protect her once, I will not fail again." He studied Lorna, waiting for any sign of discomfort or hostility.

"What's your idea?" she asked softly.

"W-we don't know what to do yet," he replied honestly, almost shocked at her willingness to help.

Lorna stood there in silence for a moment, obviously contemplating what to do. "I have an idea...but first, you should invite me in."

"Considering both Kimberly and Djinjer is inside, I don't know if that would be safe for you."

"Fine," she said, seeming irritated, but then a sly grin appeared on her lovely face. "I will help you, Zathaniel. I'll provide everything you need to get out of Gilneas and go straight to Tirisfal Glades. But there's something you have to do for me in return..."

* * *

Djinjer stared at the small sailboat, loaded with food, a lantern, a few scroll cases, and two set of oars. "I guess that was nice of her," Djinjer murmured. After nearly two hours, Zathaniel had returned only to tell them that he not only had a plan, but had the means to go through with it, but he didn't seem as happy about it as they thought...and he didn't tell them all of the details. "I'll tell you once we get close," he'd reply with.

Zathaniel placed Brutus inside the boat, followed by helping Kimberly into it. Djinjer, in civilian clothes, removed the ropes and stepped onto the boat last. Their armor, Zathaniel feared, would be too much weight for the sailboat to handle. Both had their armor tucked away into the enchanted bags, which made their gear weightless. "Row until you're tired," Djinjer said to him. "I'll pick it up after."

"Are you sure?" Kimberly asked. Kimberly was dressed like a normal Gilnean woman except that she wore a scarf to hide the sides of her face.

"Of course she's sure," Zathaniel murmured. "Just look at those arms of hers." Djinjer grinned at Zathaniel as he began rowing the boat. She was still wearing her old green shorts that were becoming entirely too frail and her white sleeveless shirt, that was more of a beige now. "According to my source," she had an irking feeling that "source" was Lorna Crowley, "we should get some wind closer to the border of Silverpine. If so, we won't have to worry about rowing."

"This is nice," Djinjer murmured, leaning back in the boat.

"It reminds me of our first real date," Kimberly said to Zathaniel, smiling. "Do you remember it?"

"Of course. You were wearing that white dress with the pink trim...pink pearls around your neck. And you had peacebloom in your hair." He smiled back...and Djinjer couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Her discomfort had nothing to do with the fact that they still obviously cared for one another, but instead, it boiled down to the fact that Kimberly belonged to Djinjer when that date took place.

"You read poetry to me," Kimberly added.

"Until a gust of wind blew away your parasol." Djinjer tried to distract herself by looking at Gilneas, but that only reminded her that her beloved region was nearly in ruins. So she did what she could and grabbed the nearest scroll case. "-didn't expect me to just let it fly away, did you? Oh, that's the map, Djinjer." She nodded and the two continued to talk about their romantic date.

They were on their way north, following the coast of Gilneas, Silverpine, and even Tirisfal Glades. A small, red X was placed on the coast near Solliden Farmstead and from it was a read line leading to an alcove called Deathknell with a note that said, "Watch for guards," in feminine writing.

"So what's the plan," she asked, interrupting them. "I mean...I catch the gist of it, but what else should we know?"

Zathaniel shifted and continued rowing the boat, "We're going to bring Kimberly to a place called Deathknell. This is where all newly arisen undead go to figure out where their new life will bring them. It will be the safest place for Kimberly..."

"I wish I could stay with the two of you," Kimberly murmured out, her voice low and full of sadness.

"Maybe when I buy a home, you can come stay with me," Djinjer offered, even though she already felt guilty for offering such a thing. Who was she kidding? It was false hope. Djinjer would most likely never buy a home and if she did, she would never be home to care for it. Kimberly would become lonely...and truly, she needed to be around her own kind now.

"That would be lovely," Kimberly whispered, though she didn't seem convinced.

"So...Deathknell...does this place decide if she'll become part of the Horde?"

"Technically," Zathaniel frowned, "She already is part of the Horde. Deathknell will just be the place that decides if she will become a soldier of the Horde or remain a normal citizen. They'll take care of her. They'll teach her everything that she needs to know. I mean, what if we do something wrong and it damages or kills Kim? We can't allow that to happen. Ultimately, this is the best option for her. We have no other choice, not really."

They sat in silence for a moment, just listening to the water slosh around the boat. They were nearing the Northern Headlands and Djinjer was just about to comment on the increased population of sheep when Kimberly spoke up.

"No matter what happens, I can't willingly attack someone I know. I'll never...ever be _your_ enemy." Djinjer looked from Zathaniel to Kimberly and smiled at her. Zathaniel was doing the same. "I'm scared, but even I know this is for the best. Just don't be surprised if I come back...somehow. Maybe one day they can reverse this," though she didn't seem very hopeful.

"The wind's picking up," Djinjer murmured.

Zathaniel nodded at her and quickly, Djinjer set up the sail; which forced Djinjer to sit beside Kimberly. She didn't mind. In fact, Djinjer was still upset that Zathaniel was doing this so quickly, so easily. She, on the other hand, wanted more time with Kimberly...no matter what she had become.


	39. Chapter 39

**Note:** _Well, this took longer than I thought. I'll actually be able to post a few pictures of the real path that Djinjer and Kimberly took to get to Tirisfal Glades. I'll admit, it's basically a filler chapter, but soon, _**everything** _is going to change! Mwahaha! As always, I apologize for any typos and if you'd like to learn more about the story OR the characters, please feel free to check out the Djinjer facebook page, which can be found on my profile._

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Djinjer always thought that there was nothing quite like waking up to the sound of seagulls high up in the blue sky and the gentle sway of a boat. The problem with that, however, was that Djinjer didn't wake that way. Djinjer woke to the rough rocking of the boat, the sky was dark and there wasn't a bird in sight. More than once, Djinjer thought she saw a dead bird sitting in a tree, looking at them however insane that seemed. Djinjer yawned as she sat up, her back cracking in the best of ways.

Her eyes immediately found Kimberly, who sat beside Zathaniel. Both looked tired...then again, Kimberly always looked tired in this new...dead body. "Need me to take over?" she asked Zathaniel.

"No," he answered softly. "We're not far from our destination now." He nodded to the right.

Djinjer looked over to the shore, finding high mountains. At the very ridge, she could see what appeared to be the peaks of dark green trees. "Are we in Tirisfal?"

"Yes," Zathaniel answered. "We'll be at the shore near Solliden Farmstead soon. Once we reach the shore, it's up to you two to make it to Deathknell."

"By ourselves?" Kim asked, seeming alarmed. "Why won't you be with us? You're an expert navigator. What if we get lost?" Djinjer was almost bothered by that remark, but it was true: Zathaniel was a much better navigator than she was.

"Djinjer will have the map," Zathaniel replied, "And you'll both have Brutus with you."

"But why aren't you joining us?" His tired eyes turned back to Djinjer's.

"I think if you escort her, you'll seem less threatening than if I did or we both did." He let out a long, low yawn. "Besides, who's going to watch the boat?"

Djinjer grinned at him, "You mean you're going to sleep."

"Nope," came the quick reply as he yawned again. "I think these paths may lead to the farm," Zathaniel murmured, as he directed the boat toward the nearest piece of flat land. "My source told me that we should look for land such as this."

"Why don't we just go to the shore," Djinjer suggested. "I know I may not be a navigator, but I see a shore over there."

"Because we would be in plain view of the Scarlet Palisade. Djinjer, make sure you and Kimberly both stay away from the humans in this region. They don't care if you're human or not...they will attack you. At least, that's what I was told." Djinjer glanced at Zathaniel as the boat hit the land a bit more rough than expected.

"I wonder..." but Djinjer didn't finish her sentence. The guilt Zathaniel was trying so desperately to hide was still easy to see. Zathaniel quickly hopped out of the boat and made his way to the front, their eyes staying locked the entire time. He pulled the small vessel onto the land and motioned for her to get out.

"Get your gear on," he told her. "You'll need to protect Kimberly with your life, even if that means revealing your true form to her."

"I really hope this is the right thing to do," Djinjer said softly. "I'll send Brutus back if I see that we're about to die."

Zathaniel sighed loudly, "Must you think like that?" Djinjer shrugged.

"This is for the best," Kimberly rasped out. "I have no business in Gilneas any longer. Just please, don't let go of my hand. Don't let me out of your sight. Protect me, Djinjer."

"As if you had to say any of that," Djinjer murmured, helping Kimberly out of the boat. As Brutus jumped from the boat, Djinjer reached for a scroll.

"_Not that one_!" Zathaniel roared out so quickly, both she and Kimberly jumped.

"Alright, alright! No need to yell! I _am_ right here, you know!"

Zathaniel quickly made his way around the other side of the boat and pulled out a shorter, thicker case. "It's this one," he said in a softer, but guilty tone.

Djinjer snatched it from his hand, growing even more suspicious of his actions. Just what was he hiding from them? There wasn't time to question him. And as if knowing she was ready to demand what he was hiding, Zathaniel turned his attention to Kimberly. "Be safe."

Kimberly threw herself into his arms, sobbing softly. "I'll never forget either of you. I'll come find both of you as soon as I can, I promise!"

Djinjer frowned, but turned away. It was their moment together and she would do nothing to spoil it. Instead, Djinjer pulled her gear out and equipped it, making sure to be extra careful with her weapon. Djinjer tightened her ponytail and rubbed her nose on the back of her plate covered glove. "We should get going."

"She's right," Zathaniel murmured, placing a kiss on Kimberly's forehead. "Take care of her Djinjer."

Djinjer gave him a mock solute and grinned. "Looks like Brutus is ready." The black mastiff was already making his way along the path in front of them. Djinjer followed and turned, helping Kimberly up. "Be careful, Zathaniel."

Zathaniel nodded in reply. A few steps forward and already, they couldn't see the boat. "This is a good spot," Kimberly said softly, holding onto Djinjer's left arm. "What's that?"

Djinjer looked. The lime green murloc with blue stripes was walking not far from them, its little feet slapping against the rocky surface. "They're cute," Djinjer murmured, "until they turn around."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Judging from its size, no. But we still want to be careful," Djinjer said, directing Kimberly to walk farther from the creature. "Their teeth can pierce straight through some cloths...and other materials."

Kimberly gave it another hard look before walking on. "I don't want anything killed that doesn't need to be."

"Kimberly...if you're put into the army of the Forsaken, the army of the Horde, rather, you're going to have to kill things whether you want to or not."

"Do you think we'll ever have to fight each other?" she asked, coming to a stop at a fork.

"Even if we have to, I will never fight you," Djinjer replied, looking down both paths. The left looked as though it would bring them to the water whereas the right didn't. Djinjer rose on her tiptoes the best she could and what she saw pleased her. "Right," Djinjer directed.

They walked for a ways with Brutus by their side. He was always quick to alert them of another murloc close by. More than once, Kimberly stooped over and patted Brutus on his head or back. "I forgot what a good dog he is," she murmured as they ran into another problem. "Oh," Kimberly chirped out as she stood up. "Dead end?"

"Sort of," Djinjer replied, looking around. It almost looked as if they could pass on the right, but with a few tries, Djinjer found it to be too steep of a climb. Even if Kimberly were to get on her shoulders, they would never make it. But the left path was severely blocked off as well. "Damn," she whispered, sizing up the large boulder in front of them. The boulder was a richer brown and looked as though it didn't even belong on this continent. "Watch your step," Djinjer said to Kimberly.

Kimberly was standing close to the edge of their path, looking down and to her right. "You know, I think this may be the path we need to take," she said softly. "Come look. There's an open trail."

"Careful," Djinjer snapped as she grabbed Kimberly and pulled her back from the edge. "If you fell, you could have seriously hurt yourself. That's a long fa-WAAAAH!" More than ever was Djinjer thankful for her armor. From the looks of it, she did more damage sliding down the rocks than they did to her.

"Oh!" she heard Kimberly. "Oh, oh!" Brutus was whining, but refused to bark. Good dog, indeed. He would never reveal their location. "Are you dead?" she whimpered out. "Oh my goodness!"

"I'm fine," Djinjer coughed out. "Just knocked the wind from me. …Let me clear my head." Djinjer sat there for a moment taking deep breaths. "You're going to have to come down here," Djinjer called up. "Do your best to climb down."

"I don't know if that's possible," Kimberly murmured, dropping to her hands and knees. "It looks so steep."

With a groan, Djinjer stood up and shook some of her armor free of pebbles. "Brute! Come!" The dog didn't question her authority. He simply hopped from beside Kimberly and fell into her arms perfectly, which also knocked her back. "You've done this more than once, haven't you?" He licked her face in response and quickly crawled off of her.

"I don't want to do this." Kimberly's voice was filled with fear. "I think I'll go back-"

"Get your boney butt down here!" Djinjer snapped out with a grin. They were in this very same situation about a year ago, only Kimberly didn't want to jump from the small ledge into the water below. "I'll catch you, if you would prefer to jump."

The glare Kim gave her was almost comical. Slowly, she turned around and inched her way over the edge, her feet swinging as she attempted to prop herself up on anything. One slip, and that was all it took. Kimberly came sliding down just as fast as Djinjer had, her dress inverting itself. "Are you alright?" Djinjer quickly pulled Kimberly to her feet.

"Yeah," she sighed out. "That didn't hurt half as much as I thought it would. I guess that's a perk to being…whatever I am. _Oh_," her flaking bottom lip quivered as she looked down at her dress. "It's ruined."

"Something tells me that doesn't quite matter with where you're going."

"Thanks," came the bitter reply, and the two of them moved onward. Kimberly had been completely correct in that there was a wide path, completely smoothed out as if it were manmade. However, it was most unfortunate that the path also bringing them right next to the Scarlet Palisade.

"Stay low," Djinjer murmured, walking as close as she could to the right wall of the path. They quickly made their way to a bundle of trees, but it was there that Djinjer knew they would be faced with danger. "No matter what, we'll be seen. See the camp ahead of us? We have no choice but to go through them."

"Shh," Kimberly whispered. "There's a woman coming this way."

Djinjer looked around another tree and sure enough, there was a woman in red armor walking in their direction, but she didn't seem to be focusing on them. Djinjer held a finger over her mouth and Kimberly nodded. The woman walked closer, then looked over her shoulder. "Bastards," she said with a very soft accent. It was _almost_ Gilnean, but not quite. The woman pulled a pipe from the satchel at her side and lit it. "Think I'm good only for cooking? I'll show you. I'll show the lot of you."

Djinjer pulled a small axe from her side, "This is it," Djinjer whispered. "Do _not_ be frightened and do _not_ run from me. They're armed," she spotted a few others with crossbows by their side. "I really wish we could have found you some gear."

"I'll be fine," Kimberly whispered back. "I trust you to protect me."

Djinjer smiled, but kept her eyes on the woman. "We'll kill her, then that man near the barrels…followed by the swordsman near the trees." Again, Kimberly nodded, but this time, she didn't seem all that enthusiastic. With the small axe in her hand, Djinjer drew back her arm and with all of her strength, she sent it soaring to the woman. The axe embedded itself quite deeply into the woman's neck.

The blonde woman turned to them, her eyes wide. Blood spurted from her neck and seeped from her mouth. "What's all that racket over there?" said the man at the barrel, though he didn't turn around. Good.

Djinjer rushed forward, yanking the axe from the woman's neck before she charged the man. He didn't have a chance to turn around, much less acknowledge her as she swung her weapon with all of her strength. His blood squirted against the wall of the beige tent and his headless body fell beside it. "Halt!" the swordsman shouted, but as he eyed her own gear, he took a deep breath and also shouted, "We're under attack!"

The beast, so eager to escape its confines, finally burst through her body. Djinjer let out a horrific roar, attacking the man fiercely. He didn't stand a chance. In fact, each person that they came across didn't seem to put up much of a fight. They knew the basics in combat, it seemed, and not much else. Djinjer disposed of another female before she, Brutus, and Kimberly made their way further south. "You know," Djinjer breathed out, "if I remember right, Deathknell is just beyond these mountains."

"Behind you!" Kimberly shrieked.

The arrow slammed against her armor, but snapped. With little effort, Djinjer charged the attacker and once more, decapitated the man. She sliced open the stomach of a mage and crushed the throat of another swordsman. Even with as many people as she had just slain, it seemed not all of the soldiers were aware of the killer, dashing through the forest around them. That's what happens, Djinjer thought, when camps are too far apart.

Slowly and quietly, they moved unnoticed for quite some time until finally, they came upon a well hidden peak. "Look at this," Djinjer replied. "I thought Gilneas looked horrible, but look at the walls of Lordaeron." The large wall across from them was in ruins. Most of it was broken, revealing its innards. The two towers near the road had scouts upon them, who were being warmed by fires.

"And look," Kimberly murmured.

"Aye," Djinjer could make out fields of pumpkin, wheat, and corn in the distance. "People still live here."

"We can't go any further," Kimberly said, wrapping both of her arms around Djinjer's left arm. "We've killed too many people already!"

"Kimberly…we are killing people that would have killed both of us if they had the chance. I know this must be hard for you to understand…but believe me, this will all be worth it to keep you safe." Kimberly released Djinjer's arm, but continued frowning.

"It's all about perspective isn't it? To them, we're the enemy and they are doing good. But to us, they're the enemy. In the end…we're all just murderers, aren't we?"

Djinjer sighed. If there was one trait Kimberly could have lost and didn't, it was the trait to see truth in every situation. "We don't have time for this," Djinjer said, grabbing Kimberly's wrist. "We're moving."

The two women carefully made their way down the peak, being as stealthy as they could. Brutus had run around and had immediately stopped. He stood still, never breaking eye contact with whatever he was looking at. Djinjer knew, as soon as she reached the bottom of the peak, that she should have recognized that behavior. The warrior saw her just as she saw him. He didn't call out, he didn't make a sound as he pulled his sword from the sheath at his hip.

He looked just as startled to see her as she was to discover him. "What are you?" he breathed. "Friend or foe. I have seen worgen, but none that wield weapons…none that help the forsaken. Beast," his voice got louder and firmer. "I lay down my weapon and in return, you spare my life."

"And why should I do that?" she growled out, adoring her worgen voice for the first time in her new life.

His eyes widened. "Worgen have never used our speech," but it was said more to himself than to them. "I have a newborn…days old. My wife is home with him now. Allow me to return home…I beg of you."

"And how do I know you are trustworthy?"

"A beast of your strength…would not so easily allow me to get away with betrayal." He knelt down, lowering his head. "My sword," he placed it on the ground. "My life, I beg you, spare it."

"Help us," Djinjer said in a softer tone. "Help us get through these lands and I will reward you."

He lifted his head, his brown eyes staring into hers. "And what is the task that I may help with?"

"I need to get my companion to Deathknell. I do not want to kill more of your people." Brutus slowly approached the sword and snatched the handle into his mouth, dragging it back to them. It was hardly better than the sword her father had given her.

"I cannot go that close to the gates of Deathknell," he replied. "But allow me to return home. I can bring a horse with a wagon. I can bring you just outside of Solliden Farmstead…but no closer."

"You have twenty minutes," Djinjer growled out with the fool force of her voice. "I suggest hurrying."

"Come," he said, quickly moving aside. "There is a small alcove here. It will hide you until I can return."

"And if you do not…"

"I dare not defy you." He bowed again, this time from his waist. A quick salute and the man was off, walking quickly. Good, she thought. If he ran, it would raise suspicion.

Kimberly snorted. "You'd swear you were a noble with how he spoke to you."

"He was frightened…and he is looking for a reason to leave this land. I have just given him that reason. I can only hope he is true to his word…I don't want to kill innocent people." For nearly ten minutes, they stood or sat in that alcove, waiting for the dark haired man to return.

"I have a bad feeling," Kimberly murmured.

"Don't…if he betrayed us, we would already be in combat," she said in return. "I think we can trust this man. I swear, if he helps us, I'll pay him a very hefty amount of gold." Another five minutes and Djinjer finally saw what she hoped to see. Sitting upon an old wagon was none other than the very warrior. By his side were two long yellow cloaks and in the wagon was hay. A grin spread across her wolfish face. "I knew it."

There was only once that he stopped on his way and talked to a farmer. Even from where she stood, Djinjer could see the smile upon his face and the worry in his eyes. "Come on, man," she murmured. "We're sort of in a hurry, here."

As if hearing her, he waved his goodbye and kept coming in their direction. For a while, he picked acorns, always glancing over his shoulder until finally, he waved them down. Immediately, the trio rushed behind the wagon, which he quickly climbed upon. "Here, put these on," he said. "Then get into the hay. It's the only way I can get you two out of here safely."

"Let the pup ride up front with you," Djinjer murmured. "And remember…you dare betray us and I'll have your family for snack." He paled a bit, but nodded, climbing down to help Brutus up. "Help us…and I swear, I'll give you anything I can spare."

"Help my family get out of here. You obviously came by boat, judging from the direction you and your friend were coming from." Djinjer helped Kimberly slip into the hay. "We are surrounded by the enemy and we've turned our backs on our people…in return, they have turned their backs on us."

"Done," Djinjer slipped into the hay, and immediately, the wagon began to move. "Thank you," she whispered. "This means the world to us."

"It may be a bumpy ride," he murmured. None of them said a word as they moved through the Farmstead. Twice, he was stopped, and twice, he carried on a polite conversation until he interrupted the speaker and announced his hurry. But where, the speakers would question and to which he would never reply. Djinjer was proud of this man and certainly proud of herself, for being a good judge of character.

"We are nearly there," he told them softly. "Even if you are trying to get your friend to Deathknell, do not be surprised if they attack you. Do not be surprised if they slay you."

"It is a chance I am willing to take," she told him. "Just like you're willing to risk it all for your family." He didn't reply.

It wasn't much longer before the wagon came to a stop. "This is it," he said. "This is as far as I can take you. Keep in mind that you are still in view of not only my people, but now the Horde as well." Kimberly and Djinjer were shimmying out of the haystack quickly; feeling both excited and nervous. "Shall I wait?"

"No," Djinjer yanked the yellow cloak off of herself and pulled her backpack forward. "Take this. No, don't worry about the amount," she interrupted before he could say anything. "Get your wife, get what you desperately need to bring with you, and go to the shore. Keep your sword on you…there are angry little murlocs."

The man nodded as cracked the whip against the horse's rear. "Good luck," he said softly.

Djinjer, Kimberly, and Brutus didn't want to wait any longer. They moved through a small thicket of trees and finally came to a stop on the road. Not far from them was a camp, but that surely couldn't be Deathknell. Djinjer turned and looked to her right. Judging from the two heavily armored guards and the tall wooden fence, they had arrived at Deathknell


	40. Chapter 40

**Note:** _My, how the chapters have passed. I must f__irst apologize for the long wait for the chapters. I've been extremely busy lately :3 since I'm getting married and moving pretty far away. In fact, I haven't been around a computer much recently, so I've taken to a notebook to write down all some of the ideas I have and chapters. As always, if you'd like more information on the fics and characters, you can certainly friend me on Facebook ~ Djinjer AWorgens Tale ~ typed exactly like that._

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Djinjer wasn't quite sure what to think as she stood on the dilapidated cobblestone road leading to Deathknell. Kimberly stood beside her, clenching her arm. If she didn't know any better, she would think Kimberly was plastered to her armor. "I don't want to do this," Kimberly said quickly, but quietly. "Let's turn around. Let's go back."

"I think it's a bit late for that," Djinjer murmured, her eyes shifting back and forth between the two guards that stood across from them. Both seemed very alarmed to her presence, but curious about Kimberly. "They probably think I'm holding you hostage," Djinjer murmured softly. "Calm down. Now."

"Okay," Kimberly said, her eyes focusing on the female.

"Come on," Djinjer whispered, grabbing Kimberly's hand. Djinjer gave the gate before them one more hard look. Its spiked tops and burning torches didn't make it look very welcoming. The two of them only took a few steps forward before they came to an abrupt stop making them even with an iron lamp post. The two guards withdrew their weapons, pointing them directly at her. "Please," Djinjer called out. "I mean no harm."

Neither seemed to believe her. "I know you understand me. This is my friend," Djinjer continued to speak loudly. "She needs your help."

"Maybe you should become a human again…you'll look less frightening," Kimberly muttered.

Djinjer nodded and shook herself like a wet dog. "I'm from Gilneas," Djinjer called out in her scratchy human voice. "My name is Djinjer. This is Kimberly. She was left behind by your kind."

"That's not true," Kimberly hissed.

"It needs to be," Djinjer snapped back. "You think they'll want to keep you if you tell them you used your own free will to go back to Gilneas?"

Kimberly frowned in response.

Djinjer smiled at Kimberly. "You know, you'll always be you. You'll always do what you want." Even if Kimberly's hair was greasy and brittle, Djinjer tucked a piece of it behind her partially rotted ear. "I'll never…ever…forget you." Kimberly smiled and instead of clinching onto her armor, she wrapped her arms around Djinjer's and rested her head against Djinjer's armored shoulder.

Djinjer's attention immediately returned to the guards as she heard footsteps coming her way. It was the female guard that was approaching them, her weapon held beside her. "Please," Djinjer said as the female stopped a few feet in front of them. "She needs help. My partner and I don't know how to take care of her, nor do we know if we can. I don't want our people to kill her…and they will if they find her in Gilneas. I know I'm your enemy, but-"

The undead held up her armored hand. "Many of us," her voice was deeper and scratchier than Kimberly's, "still have relatives among the living; among armies that fight against us."

"Does that mean you'll take her?" Djinjer looked at Kimberly just as Kimberly looked at Djinjer. "She deserves to be treated well, not hide from her own kind."

"She is _our_ kind now," rasped the female. Djinjer looked back at her. It appeared the guard's lower jaw had been replaced with another. "She must decide to either live her life in secrecy with you or leave you and your partner," she looked out into the distance, as if expecting to see someone else out there, "behind for good." Slowly, the female turned her eyes back on Djinjer, but held her hand out to Kimberly. "What is your," she looked at Kimberly, "decision?"

Again, their eyes met and Djinjer knew how terrified Kimberly really was. Neither of them said anything. Instead, Kimberly smiled only for a second and walked forward, taking the guard's hand. "I'll get you set up," the guard said. "And you, I'd get out of here as fast as possible."

"Take care of yourself, Kimberly."

"Go!" the guard hissed out.

While it may have been hard to want to budge from where she stood, Djinjer gave Kimberly one last look before she returned to her worgen form and threw herself into a quick run on all fours. It was as if luck was on her side. She didn't run into any humans that wanted to kill her, nor was she spotted by anyone that could call attention to her. Djinjer came to a stop at the same place she had when she met the helpful soldier. Though tears stung at her eyes, Djinjer closed them and took a deep breath. "I tried flagging you down," said the familiar voice of the soldier.

Djinjer peaked over the side of the hill and found the soldier, his frightened wife, and the baby she held in her arms. "It's okay," he whispered to her, "she's going to help us."

"Stay close together," Djinjer whispered. "We'll try to get through with as little trouble as possible."

"One suggestion," he said, quickly pulling a bag forward from his back. "A disguise. I think a large worgen running wild in the forest will be hard not to notice."

Again, Djinjer shook herself, and both the woman and the man seemed entirely amazed to find Djinjer staring back at them. Djinjer swept her orange bangs behind her ears. "What's our cover?"

Stuttering, searching for words, the soldier seemed at a lost. His frightened wife, however, spoke up, "A picnic at the shore," she murmured, bouncing her baby. "Many families do it. That's why the murlocs are around. They look for what we may have left behind."

Djinjer quickly made her way down the hill and sighed softly. "So what's my disguise?"

The woman chuckled, "Well...we weren't certain what to do at first, but now that you're just a girl..." that bothered Djinjer, "here, in my picnic basket, there's a dress. If you can fit it over your armor…"

"Behind the trees," the soldier said, quickly looking around. "Let's do our best to not be seen."

"Right," Djinjer murmured as she pulled a long brown dress from the picnic basket. "I'll be able to stash my gear in my bag," she said as she quickly moved behind the trees, removing her armor as quickly as possible. "I don't think _anyone_ is stupid enough to believe I'm built like my armor makes me look."

"What a nifty bag," The woman admired as the soldier kept his back to her. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Djinjer Foreman," she answered, slipping out of her armored pants. She nearly threw the dress over her head, "And yours?"

"I'm Kathleen, my husband is Brandon…Brandon Duncan. And this is Hyacinth."

"Beautiful baby," Djinjer quickly said, adjusting the dress. "Good thing I have my cloth shoes," Djinjer said as she slipped them on. They were nothing but a little cloth and a leather sole, but if they were stopped, her plate boots wouldn't give her away. "Let's go," she said, slipping her backpack on again.

"Thank you for helping my family," Brandon said.

"Don't thank me yet," Djinjer whispered, slipping the hood of the robe on. "Thank me when we see the shores of Gilneas."

Getting back through Tirisfal wasn't half as easy as it was getting in. The party was stopped a total of four times and even though Djinjer was clearly not a citizen, no one seemed to notice her. "A picnic," was always their excuse, which was always followed by a comment about murlocs and safety. Even after some of their guard had been slaughtered, the soldiers didn't seem suspicious about the new face. As soon as the party made it to the shore, Djinjer immediately began making her way back to the boat, which was considerably harder.

"This isn't working," Kathleen murmured as Djinjer slid down the very same slope she had tumbled down.

Djinjer panted heavily, staring at the top of the slope with hopelessness. "Yeah," Djinjer replied between breaths, "it seems that way." She didn't have it in her to be sarcastic and she knew—that even in her worgen form—she would never make it to the top of the slope. "Stay here," Djinjer hiked up her dress and began walking through the water, as close to rocky land as possible. Djinjer immediately gave up her attempt on keeping her borrowed dress dry.

The water was waist deep, but she made it to the other side without a problem. "Okay," she called out. Even to her own ears, she sounded weak—though she didn't feel it in her body. Instead, she felt it in her heart and though she refused to think about Kimberly, Djinjer couldn't help but wonder how she was doing. What if those monsters killed her? ...But what if Kimberly fit in perfectly and was taken care of?

"The water's pretty deep," she called as she walked through the water again. "A little over waist high."

"Give me the baby," Brandon murmured and without a question, Kathleen handed him their baby and propped her basket on top of her head. She walked through the water first, with her husband and child right behind her. "Are you positive this is the way?" Brandon asked as all of them approached the shore. Brutus brought up the rear of the group and shook himself free of water. Though Djinjer would never admit it, she knew just how good that felt.

"Yes," Djinjer replied. "The boat we sailed in with is just over that ridge."

"We?"

"My partner..._his_ owner." The couple looked down at the large mastiff, then looked at each other. There was fear in Kathleen's eyes, but before they could begin regretting their decision, Djinjer quickly assured them that everything would be okay.

Before continuing, they did their best to dry themselves and even changed Hyacinth. Djinjer changed into her own magically enchanted clothes and immediately after, lead them along the very same path she took with Kimberly. And there on the shore, just where he was when she left, was Zathaniel.

Zathaniel was sitting against a rock, hiding from the sun. In his hands was the very scroll she had grabbed and he looked quite troubled as he read over it. Feeling her gaze, Zathaniel looked up at her, then at the others. "That's your owner?" Brandon asked the hound. "Quite formidable."

Djinjer grinned as he stood up. "Made friends with the locals, I see," he said to her as they approached the boat.

"Brandon here helped Kimberly and I get to Deathknell," Djinjer grinned at the soldier, still holding his baby.

"And in return they wish to come to Gilneas?" Zathaniel asked, looking them over.

"Yes," Brandon handed Hyacinth to Kathleen. "We will surely find some way to return this kindness bestowed upon us by you and your friend here. I assume you are worgen as well?"

"Aye," Zathaniel murmured. "Name's Zathaniel Gilneau. I have a place you can stay once we're in Gilneas. But after you and your family recuperate, you'll have to move on."

"That is more than what we could ever ask for," Brandon truly seemed grateful, as did his wife. Ease washed over the couple and with little else to say, everyone was once again loaded up into the sailboat. There was introductions, followed by a quick explanation as to why the couple wanted to leave their home. They had grown up together in Tirisfal and as such, it was only natural for them to stay behind when many others left. As of late, their connections from the rest of the world were cut off and the Horde was closing in on them quickly. Food and water was getting scarce and truly, it was no place to raise a family. Fleeing meant treason and treason meant death. Though distracted by their story, only after ten minutes, it was clear to see that Zathaniel was having a harder time with rowing. She wondered, was it because he was going against the current or was it because he was tired? How long had it been since either of them got proper sleep? A soft bed with a fluffy pillow sounded heavenly right about now.

"Please," Brandon murmured, "Let me have a go at it. It's the least I could do."

Zathaniel looked up at him, sweat was already beading on his forehead. "I still have some strength."

"Zathaniel, if he wants to help, let him. I'd rather the two of you take turns than to exhaust yourself completely." Djinjer grinned at him as he shot her a glare.

He gave Brandon the same glare, then sighed. "Fine. Give it a shot." And with some difficulty, they maneuvered around one another and off they were, yet again. For some time, everyone sat in silence, including the baby. The silence was unnerving; as if it were a bad omen of sorts. It must have been, because just as they reached the waters near Silverpine Forest, Djinjer saw something in the distance...and it didn't look very good.

"What's that?" Djinjer whispered to Zathaniel.

He leaned in closer beside her in an attempt to see exactly what she was seeing. Djinjer's heart dropped into her stomach as Zathaniel physically paled. "It's a storm...and a bad one at that. I didn't think it would be here so soon. Brandon, quickly, move from the oars. Djinjer, grab the second pair. We'll need all the strength we can muster."

"Then shouldn't I-"

Brandon was cut off by Zathaniel, "A man's ego should never be hurt in this manner, but..._she_ is stronger than _you_." Djinjer blushed as she looked at Brandon. "You know what to do," Zathaniel's voice abruptly changed into a growl with the last two words of that sentence. "Hurry! You'll need to help if we have any chance at getting to Gilneas before the storm gets to us!"

Djinjer didn't wait another second to join Zathaniel in her worgen form. "Sit in the middle," she told the Duncan family and quickly, they moved. With Djinjer now equipped with oars of her own, the boat moved much quicker. In fact, it was almost shocking as to how quickly they were moving. But a price came with such an effort. Djinjer was already sore by the time they reached the mid point of Silverpine. Just when she was ready to give up, a memory kept her going.

When fighting for Gilneas, Djinjer often thought she couldn't keep going. Her muscles had ached much worse than they did now. So why was she ready to give up on a little rowing? The thought almost made her laugh. Renewed with strength and with inspiration, Djinjer continued putting her muscle into her task. It also helped that the oncoming danger was much more serious than she first assumed, which made her want to get to shore quicker. The sky was quickly darkening and both lightning and rain was easy to see in the distance. "Will we be okay?" Kathleen whimpered out, holding her baby tightly.

"Just hold onto each other tightly," Zathaniel growled out to the couple. "Come, Brutus. Stay beside me." Brutus dashed to hide beneath Zathaniel's seat and not a moment too late.

The storm seemed to hit them all at once. The dark clouds blocked out any light from the sun and both the wind and the thunder deafened them. The already choppy water suddenly became frighteningly rough; the violent wind made the rain whip at their skin. Even through her fur, Djinjer felt it stinging her flesh. She was certain the hard rain was painful for the couple, though their main interest was with protecting their child. Often, she and Zathaniel would lean to one side of the boat with all of their weight, as if they could somehow keep it from toppling...but that wasn't as much of a threat as the boat taking on water.

Brandon immediately hopped into action. He grabbed a nearby bucket and began frantically removing as much water as he could. It felt like it was of no use. The rain kept coming down in sheets and at times, water would pour into their boat from a violent wave.

"We can't take this much longer!" Djinjer barked out at the top of her lungs. Even then, her voice sounded so distant, so far—even to herself.

"The shore is right over there! We'll be in the Headlands!" Zathaniel barked back.

"We'll need to seek shelter!" Djinjer shouted in return, yelping at she was suddenly jerked to her right.

She quickly regained her place, continuing to row with him—though at this point, there was hardly any reason to. The sea was taking them where it wanted to. Zathaniel let out a long, low howl and much to her surprise, a very distant howl was returned...or was it the wind? Djinjer perked her ears up and strained to hear.

Just when Djinjer was certain it had been the wind, her eyes locked onto something in the distance. A bright red flare shot through the darkness of the storm, guiding them to the shore, but how could such luck exist?

"Djinjer," Zathaniel shouted. Her ears twitched toward Zathaniel, "Steer left, _hard_." She didn't need to be told twice. Djinjer summoned up all of her strength and forced it into the right ore. The movement of the boat was hardly even noticeable, but what mattered was that it did move. Djinjer turned her eyes back to the flare, another was sent up. "When we get closer, throw the sail up!"

"_What?_" she shrieked. "That could take us out to sea!"

"Trust me!" he growled.

Djinjer and Zathaniel fought hard to continue bringing the small vessel to shore. Another flare was sent into the air, but this time she not only saw it, but heard it as well. "Now!" Zathaniel shouted. Though sore and tired, Djinjer mustered up as much strength as she could. Zathaniel, on the other hand, dropped his oars and reached for the sail. As soon as he released the oars, the boat jerked, nearly throwing Djinjer overboard. "Get down!" he shouted.

Brandon and his wife slammed down onto the flooded floor of the boat and not a moment too soon. A grappling hook smashed through the mast. The boat jerked again; this time, forward. With the help of the worgen on shore, the boat moved much easier through the choppy water. "Keep rowing, Djinjer! We'll make it easier on them!"

"Of course!" came the slightly irritated reply.

"By the Light! We're saved!" Did he ever doubt them? She refused to die just because of a storm. Then again, to her knowledge, Gilneas had never seen such a storm. With the help of the others, it was much easier to get to shore. As soon as the boat slammed into the sandy shore of Gilneas, Djinjer dropped her oars and sighed heavily, collapsing onto her seat.

Zathaniel and Brutus quickly hopped form the boat and with the help of the other soldiers, pulled it completely on shore. He helped the family out of the boat, then quickly pulled their belongings and his scroll case out. His golden eyes met hers for a brief second before she looked over to the Duncan family. They were begin covered by rain cloaks, which brought her attention to their saviors. All she needed was a flash of lightning to see that they were Gilnean soldiers. But why were they here? Did they know of their journey to Tirisfal Glades? And how did they know to be here, did Zathaniel plan this?

Djinjer slowly crawled out of the boat, too tired and sore to keep thinking. All she wanted to do was get somewhere out of the storm and dry herself off.

"We must move quickly," said the smallest of the male worgen. "The storm is moving inland and the worst has yet to come."

"Will we make it to the city in time?" Djinjer called over a roar of thunder.

"We'll take the underground tunnels," Zathaniel called out, refusing a cloak. "Are the torches still in place?"

"Yes, sir," answered all four worgen.

"Here," said the small male. "Take it." Djinjer gladly accepted the rain cloak. If there was one more thing to notice, it was that their accent was definitely not Gilnean—though she did recognize it. They shared the same accent as the civilians in Silverpine.

After the third time of his wife tripping and his second time slipping, Brandon finally called out, "Can't we have some light?"

"No," barked the nearest worgen. "The Horde has used the storm to launch an attack. Their battle is not far from here. Lanterns could give away our positions."

"Wouldn't the flares do the same?" Djinjer snapped out, irritated with their treatment of the couple.

"Commander Crowley has planed attacks during this storm to protect Lord—"

"Silence in back!" Growled another worgen that walked just behind Zathaniel. Though the smallest male fell silent, he nodded to the east. Djinjer could spot the flashes of colorful light. There was a battle going on and all Djinjer could feel was guilt. How could she think Zathaniel was hiding something from her when her people were in danger, yet again by both the forces of nature and the Horde? It wasn't much longer before they came to a stop by the most intact of the ruins surrounding them. Zathaniel pushed open the creaky door and one by one, each of them entered the ruin and exited it through the tunnel in the floor. The smallest worgen closed the heavy door behind them and immediately, they were plunged into darkness.


	41. Chapter 41

**Note:** _I tried to keep this chapter as flowing as possible, but I'm afraid it might be a bit boring in some parts. Wait. Wait. Wait. Why did it take so long to post this? Well, I got married and moved to the opposite end of the country, had a bad case of writer's block, and then just now wrote most of this chapter in one day. But to get back to the story, I based a lot of the weather experiences off of a hurricane. And, in fact, that's what storm is taking place. I figure it would be rare but hey, the world of Azeroth is PMSing anyway, so why not? Also, I hope the end of the fic doesn't bother anyone. For those of you that are young, please know you've been warned. I kept it as clean as possible! I apologize for any grammar errors!  
_

* * *

Within the tunnel beneath Gilnean land, Djinjer and her party could hear nothing but the shuffling of their feet and the soft whimpering of Hyacinth, the Duncan's baby. Djinjer was quickly beginning to hate tunnels. In fact, she was certain she was slightly claustrophobic; she always had to get out as quickly as she could. At least this tunnel was larger; as if man-made to move many people at once.

"Is this tunnel secure?" Kathleen asked. Her voice was hoarse and filled with fear.

"Yes," answered the worgen who walked just in front of Zathaniel. "Ignore the falling debris," he continued to say. "There is a battle above us." But it was hard to do such a thing, considering soft tremors ran through the tunnel now and then. She was sure it was from overhead explosions, and though Djinjer knew what she had done was important, she couldn't help but feel selfish. Perhaps what was left of her people in Gilneas wouldn't be in battle were it not for their decision.

For the most part, they walked in silence, save for the occasional whimper from Hyacinth. Only one worgen seemed bothered by it. She saw him look at the baby, not with annoyance, but with curiosity and worry. "She looks fevered," he grumbled out softly.

Kathleen immediately came to a stop, as did everyone else. "I don't know what's wrong with her. She was fine and then all of a sudden..." she trailed off, unable to finish her explanation. Considering everything that they had just gone through, Djinjer was surprised it took this long for the baby to get cranky or become ill. Kathleen's bottom lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears. "What if this is my fault?"

While Kathleen's husband embraced his family, the blue eyed worgen quickly began searching his bag. "Give her a drop," the worgen said, holding up something Djinjer was very familiar with. "No more than a drop. Health potions can be lethal to infants if given in excess amount."

"Do it quickly. We must press on. The storm has only just begun and _none_ of us want to get trapped down here." The worgen up front spoke harshly, as if annoyed. Djinjer wanted to say something, but with a hard stare from Zathaniel, she knew to bite her tongue.

Hyacinth immediately fell asleep in her mother's arms after swallowing the drop of potion. There was relief on Kathleen's face, but it didn't last long, as a strong tremor ran through the cave. "Onward," Zathaniel commanded quietly.

Again, silence fell upon them as they continued through the tunnel for far too long. Though Djinjer was unfamiliar with the tunnels in Gilneas, she knew Gilneas in itself very well. As soon as the smooth tunnel floor turned into rugged steps, she knew just exactly where they were. Gilneas City was surrounded by water, which meant that they'd have to go under the canal to make it into the city.

"This is pleasant," Djinjer murmured as droplets of water seeped through the roof of the tunnel. "At least it's held up well through the recent battles. We wouldn't want it—"

"That's enough," said the worgen beside her. "We do not want to jinx ourselves. We have had much luck recently."

"Superstitious bastard," laughed out another worgen. "We could bang on these walls all we want. They wouldn't break. I would know, my family was in charge of caring for the tunnels before the curse fell upon us. They are sturdy and very strong."

"I suppose that's why three have collapsed? Oh, and one of those crushed an elite party of soldiers. Didn't you recommend that tunnel?"

The worgen spun around to face the other, both were growling and baring their teeth. "There will be no more talking until we exit the tunnel," Zathaniel snarled, shaking himself free of his worgen form. "All of you relax and continue onward! Remember your places!" The tone in his voice, the way they instantly returned to their human forms and stood at attention...it could only mean one thing: they were not _just_ obeying or respecting Zathaniel. They were taking orders _from _Zathaniel.

Djinjer ignored the men as she and the Duncan family pushed past them. Each male gave her a look; one that sent shivers up her spine. Brandon cast her a glance, one that she nodded in reply of. They had to be coming to the end of the tunnel, but from there Djinjer didn't know what the future held for the Duncan family. Then again, she didn't know what the future held for her. How many promising soldiers had been killed right in front of her? Djinjer didn't want to think about it. That was the only bad thing about Gilneas. It seemed to bring back bad memories as soon as someone even mentioned it.

In fact, Djinjer did her best not to think about anything concerning Gilneas or her past. It was the only way she could deal with the heartache, the disappointment, and the grief. She sighed heavily as they reached more stairs, this time, going up. Would she see the exit if she squinted hard enough?

"The storm is bound to be strong," the dark, bearded male said softly behind Zathaniel. "Would you care for escort or shall we wait out the storm?"

"You lot should return to your headquarters. My party and I will make it back to my property."

"But sir," the worgen continued, looking back at them. "We are exiting through the pub. Would it not be best to just sit and wait out the storm? You have an infant with you."

Zathaniel didn't reply right way. He sighed softly, then nodded. "I suppose you're right. We will set them up with a peasant's room in the pub."

"I hardly think a peasant's quarters is needed when we have better rooms," the shaggy, blond male next to her muttered.

"Do not forget that this storm has threatened Gilneas for many years. Mother nature has finally turned her back on us...and will protect us no longer. A peasant's room has no windows and thus, will protect them if the storm worsens." They walked for a moment in silence before Zathaniel stopped and handed the torch back to the bearded man he called Jackson.

Djinjer perked her human ears up, listening intently for any sound. Zathaniel knocked several times in a pattern and finally, the ceiling opened up, bathing them in light. "Hello, sir," said an older female soldier. She stepped aside and one by one, they all squeezed through the narrow exit and entered the dimly lit pub. "I apologize for the lighting," the female soldier continued. "We're doing our best to preserve candles and oil. We'll be getting a hefty shipment from our soldiers in Tempest Reach, but with the storm, who knows when that's coming."

"Thank you," Zathaniel murmured.

Djinjer looked around at the pub. Sadly, she had only been here once and that was when her father was delivering a potent and clear liquor he secretly made behind their house. How different it looked, empty with many chairs resting upside down on their tables. The windows were boarded up, but it did little to block out the sounds coming from the storm. The wind whistled, the rain sounded like waves crashing against rocks, and the thunder sounded like explosions. Even if the windows were secured, the panes shook from the strength of the wind. "Get these people set up in a secure room and if you can find them any dry clothes, do so."

"On it," the female replied, motioning for the Duncan family to follow her.

Both Kathleen and Brandon looked back at her. Tears rimmed Kathleen's eyes. "It may sound silly but I feel as though this is good-bye."

"It isn't," Djinjer murmured, her throat felt sore and tight, which was most likely a result of so much shouting during their journey to get here. "Get yourselves cleaned up and rest. I'll be here in the morning."

"Thank you," Brandon looked at each and every one of them, "all of you."

As soon as the couple disappeared into the hallway, Djinjer made her way to one of the cleared tables and collapsed onto a chair. "I don't want to do that _ever_ again."

"It wasn't that bad," Zathaniel murmured with a grin, sitting opposite of her. "Getting lazy on me?"

Djinjer couldn't glare any deadlier at him. "Now what?"

"Indeed," Jackson murmured. "We were given orders to stay with you, yet you told us to return to Headquarters."

"Do as you wish," Zathaniel said as he stood up. "Djinjer and I are returning to my property."

"But-"

"No, we are not staying here," Zathaniel interrupted. He looked tired and cranky. If she had been one of the soldiers standing in front of him, she wouldn't have continued to pester him. He almost looked deadly. "I merely meant for the Duncan family to rest. You are right. That weather is far too dangerous for a child, but not for us."

"What is so important that you _must_ go out there?" the shaggy blond asked, sincerely seeming concerned.

"Your commander is out there with a small group of soldiers. Are you saying that she can handle this weather but I cannot?" No one replied; the blond looked embarrassed, and Zathaniel grinned. "I'll see you gents around." He turned back to her and motioned for her to follow, but when she didn't move, he quickly added, "Or stay..."

"No," Djinjer hopped up from her chair. "I'm right beside you," though she really wish they could have just stayed put. It didn't sound very welcoming out there.

"Are you sure?" Zathaniel had his hand on the doorknob, ready to turn. "You look a bit worn."

Again, she glared at him. "I wonder why," came the sarcastic reply. "Are you going to open the door or are you just going to stand there? Either way, I'm good to go."

With a chuckle, Zathaniel turned the door knob and immediately, the door flung open, threatening to break off of its hinges. She gulped, but no one would have noticed. The sound of the wind was deafening and as soon as the two of them made their way outside, the door was pulled shut behind them. For a moment, the two of them stood against the wall of the tavern, frozen and being shoved down by the wind.

Djinjer cracked open her eyes, hoping to find that Zathaniel would want to go back into the safety of the tavern. But no, Zathaniel pushed off of the wall and began fighting against the wind. It took all of her strength to catch up to him, but even walking behind him took effort. "Hold onto me!" He shouted, though it was hardly audible. Blinded by the wind and stinging rain, Djinjer latched onto the leather strap of his quiver and walked.

She slipped more often than she would have hoped for and more than once, Zathaniel stumbled back into her. In all of her years in Gilneas, she had never experienced a storm such as this. Relief came from turning down a narrow alleyway. The wind could still be felt, but it was no longer hitting them head on. "Are we almost there?" Djinjer shouted, feeling like a child again. Zathaniel replied only by nodding and continued onward.

It felt like an hour had passed by the time they reached the alleyway running alongside Zathaniel's house. It took quite some effort to open the same window that they had slipped out of with Kimberly. Zathaniel grabbed her and nearly threw her through the window, but even as she landed face first onto the floor, she couldn't be angry. In fact, she was relieved, even as Zathaniel landed on top of her with all of his weight. "I _thought_ you would have moved," he breathed out as he quickly rolled off of her and hastily closed the window.

"Sorry," she breathed out, "I was just so happy to be out of the storm that I felt like becoming one with the floor." Djinjer slowly sat up, resting on her calves. Zathaniel was pale and though he didn't look it, the trembling of his fingers and lips revealed just how cold he was. It was only then that she realized how she felt. "It's freezing," she chattered out.

Zathaniel nodded and quickly grabbed her up. "It's one hell of a storm, that's for sure." He didn't say anything as he held her right arm and walked through the house, up the stairs and finally, to a small room where he released her. "Don't take this as an insult," he said as he crouched down beside the fireplace. "A smaller room means it warms quicker. There's no windows...which means you're completely safe in here."

It was significantly quieter in the room and already felt much warmer than it did outside. The sound of a fire humming to life brought more pleasure to Djinjer than she though it ever could. "I don't care if you're in the room or not," Djinjer dropped her backpack and immediately began removing pieces of armor.

He glanced over his shoulder and sighed, "Really, Djinjer, it couldn't wait?"

"_NO!_" she shouted. "I'm freezing and you know as well as I do this armor is only making us colder. We're going to get sick. Do you hear how scratchy my voice is?"

"Doesn't it always sound like that?" He chuckled as she shimmied out of her armored pants.

"Even the cloth is wet," she sighed as she unbuttoned the raveled green pants she wore under her armor.

"Well," he stood up, "I'm taking this as my sign to leave." He nodded at her as he passed her to leave, but their eyes lingered on one another. "You know where my room is if you need me," he murmured.

"Actually..."

"Last room on the right, the one with double doors."

"Okay..."

"Goodnight."

"Night."

And just like that Djinjer was left there in the room, lit only by the fire. Even if the warmth was welcomed, it wasn't enough to soothe her. She changed into a linen gown she found in the closet, which was surprisingly soft considering it had been hanging there for quite some time. With another gown, she dried her hair the best that she could and after she brushed her tangled hair, Djinjer climbed into bed. 

* * *

As soon as the fire in his room was of proper strength, Zathaniel immediately changed into clothes he hadn't worn in far too long. It was comforting, so much so that he wanted to crawl into his bed and go to sleep, but he wasn't tired. He sat on the thick fur rug, absorbing the warmth of the family until slowly, he tended to his braids and then lit a lamp, which was often kept beside his bed. He held it high into the air, looking around at the dimly lit room. He listened intently to the storm outside, which would have been lethal to his glass doors, were they not newly boarded up. The thick velvet curtains helped block out some of the sound, but he was certain he would not rest as easy as Djinjer would.

His attention turned to a bust in the corner of the room, which gleamed even in the dim light. It was almost eerie to see the room so very clean. Kimberly wouldn't even pick up after her self and demanded the help of their maids for the smallest thing. How she managed to clean all of this so well was...almost unbelievable. Pushing his wife from his mind, Zathaniel moved over to his bookcase and pulled out his favorite book. He placed the lamp and book on the bedside table and slipped into his bed, moaning softly. It was a comfort he hadn't felt in forever. For the first time since before he was married, Zathaniel truly felt at comfort.

But would his mind allow him to rest? His thoughts returned to Djinjer and he couldn't help but curse his primal instincts. It was hard to fight against them, but he refused to allow himself to stoop as low as the other men. A beast or not, he was a gentleman and wouldn't allow his hormones to cloud his thoughts. At least...in her presence. Right now, he felt weak and vulnerable and so he indulged himself. He wondered so many things about her and even cursed the storm for making her scent so vague.

How he wished he could blame the fire for making him uncomfortably warm, but the air was far too cold for him to even think of such a lie. He sighed softly, now fully unable to rest. Slowly he sat up and ran his fingers through his damp hair. His thoughts then shifted from Djinjer to Lorna. Lorna used to attract him. Lorna used to be the most beautiful girl in all Gilneas. Now, she was nothing more than a partner, a comrade. Again, he sighed, but he kept his eyes shut as he sat there, hoping the urges would disappear.

There was a click directly across from him and instantly, his heart began pounding. His vision enhanced incredibly. Djinjer stepped through the door wearing a small linen gown. It barely reached the middle of her pale thighs and was thin enough that even without his enhanced vision, he would be able to see small details; details that a gentleman should ignore.

"Um," Djinjer blushed and stepped forward a bit. She placed her arms behind her back and chewed on her bottom lip before continuing. "You can tell me to leave if you want," she said softly. "A-and thank you for the room. I just..." she sighed, her lip trembled, his blood boiled. "I just didn't want to be alone." Slowly, she crossed the room and stood at the foot of his bed, wrapping her arm around the bedpost. "You must think I'm silly." He didn't know what compelled him to take a deep breath, but he hardly held his composure.

"Djinjer," he forced out. She hesitantly looked at him, her freckled cheeks were rosy. He motioned for her to come closer, though his conscious began scolding him. He had to fight against his urges. He had to be proper...he had to protect Djinjer, not lure her in. Look at those big brown eyes, he told himself. They were trusting. They didn't suspect a thing. In the light, Zathaniel noticed two things. The first was that the scars she so unashamedly bore somehow enhanced her beauty and the second... He couldn't help but glare at her. She wasn't making this easy.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked in a small, shy voice.

_Yes_, his mind snarled but his body said otherwise. "No," he replied softly, immediately regretting it. Djinjer stood there for a while, looking around. She almost appeared ashamed to feel so lonesome. Poor thing. She was a deer in wolf's clothing; fearsome on the outside but still so gentle and innocent on the inside. ...He could never deny himself now and part of him hated that. 

* * *

Was he angry? Did she do something wrong? He was just glaring at her. Had he even blinked? He looked so menacing, sitting there in such a dim light with his hair loose and sprawling down his shoulders.

Djinjer felt so stupid for coming into his room. But it was sort of too late, wasn't it? She had extinguished the fire in her room and the one in his? Oh, it already felt so much nicer. Maybe that was because she could probably live in the damn fireplace if it wasn't lit. A soft snort caught her attention. She looked back at Zathaniel. "I'm not asking to share your bed," she said quickly, staring into his glare, "I just...don't want to be alone. I can sleep on the sofa if you'd prefer. And honestly," the bed looked so very comfortable. She had never seen a bed this large or grand before in her life. "I wouldn't take up much room."

He didn't reply. "Is there something wrong?"

Djinjer gasped as he latched onto her arm and pulled her close, almost making her fall onto the bed. "Don't you keep track of yourself? Don't you know when you should stay away?" Djinjer instantly felt bad and looked away. She had somehow irritated him. ...But what did he mean exactly? They locked eyes again and for the first time, she noticed how deep of a breath he took. It was an odd thing to notice, but it seemed off. "How can you expect me to hold back if you waltz into my room without wearing any panties?"

How could he possibly know? Embarrassment and shame immediately filled her but it was too weird to wear someone's under garments and she didn't have any that were dry! Was her gown too thin? It looked perfectly fine to her when she chose it! His black eyes looked so angry, so...Zathaniel didn't have black eyes. His eyes were teal. A memory flashed through her mind and for the first time in her life, she felt true fear toward Zathaniel. There was only once that men found her irresistible, that found her hard to ignore. It was like they tracked her. And after that, she made sure to keep herself in check—to stay away from male worgen during her heat. Had she really lost track of time?

It was as if he knew she realized what this meant, because he smirked at her. Another gasp escaped from her as he quickly pulled her onto his lap. He pressed his nose against the inside of her neck and inhaled deeply. Fear coursed through her entire body and all she wanted to do was flee. She'd take the storm over this any day. "What are you doing?" she shrieked.

"I can't help it," he whispered, "and for that, I'm sorry."

A high pitched scream erupted from her as she was thrown further onto the bed and immediately pinned by Zathaniel. He held her wrists against the bed with an iron grip and kissed her neck and shoulder. Even in her panicked state, she couldn't help but notice how soft his lips were. "Let me go!" she shouted. "You _can't_ do this to me! Get your human mind back, you jerk of an arse!"

He chuckled and moved to the other side of her neck. With a growl, Djinjer bucked against him twice and somehow managed to slip her legs from between his. As her thighs brushed his waist, Zathaniel visibly shivered. Even his lips shivered against her skin. "Stop it!" she snarled, attempting to kick him. Right as she placed her right foot against his right thigh, Zathaniel released her. She thought he released her to let her go, but she was wrong.

Zathaniel grabbed the gown and with one quick motion, ripped it in half, revealing every inch of her body to him. Shocked, but not stunned, Djinjer spun around and thrust herself forward, hoping to escape. She yelped as he grabbed her by her naked waist and pulled her back to him. What he did next, Djinjer would never forget. How could she? It was the one thing he did that changed how she felt about this entire situation. It was the one thing he did that changed...everything.

He bit down onto the back of her neck, much like a wild animal would to its mate. She froze, feeling his human teeth morph back and forth from human to something between human and worgen. Why did this one little thing have such an affect on her? Djinjer didn't think about it. She couldn't. Her mind was quickly changing into something more primal and for the first time, she noticed Zathaniel's musk. He smelled...so wonderful, so enticing, so—her mouth watered—irresistable.

Slowly, he released her neck, but then latched down again with sharper, human teeth, breaking the skin. The panting moans that escaped her shocked her human side, but seemed more than normal. She could feel her warm blood slipping down her neck and just when the bite was starting to hurt, Zathaniel released her and spun her around. Dots of her blood speckled his bottom lip, somehow making her feel even more eager. But he didn't continue. He was waiting for something and so Djinjer did the first thing that seemed natural. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought herself up, licking his face from his jawline to his temple.

She dropped herself back onto the bed and stared into his dilated eyes. Something human returned to them. The ring of teal got thicker only for a split second as a warm, loving smile appeared on his face. All Djinjer could tell from that moment is that he knew she accepted him, she welcomed this. Now, even if Djinjer was certain of her sexuality when she was younger, she wasn't exactly naive. She had read countless books that spoke of intimate moments between a man and a woman. But the kissing, the fondling, none of it seemed to matter. Her human conscious wanted to experience it but right now, this was primal. This was worgen. This _had_ to happen. She gave Zathaniel all the permission he needed when she gripped his shoulders and slowly brought her calves up to rest around his waist.

With one quick motion, there was a yelp of surprise and pain from her but a loud moan of pleasure erupted from him. Every muscle visibly trembled beneath his skin. He grabbed her chin and forced her mouth open, pressing his lips against hers, plunging his tongue into her mouth, allowing her to taste the blood from her neck. There was no turning back, was there? For one moment, her human mind regretted this, but with one stroke of his hips, the primal nature within her erupted, forcing her own muscles to tremble. Now she understood. The pleasure was almost too much for the worgen side of her to handle.


	42. Chapter 42

**Note: **_I sure hope there aren't that many typos or any mistakes. For more information on Newman's Landing, head over to Wowpedia or Wowwiki and you'll find what you're looking for. Remember, I take a lot of creative liberties when it comes to expanding living areas within the game. Also, I'm becoming more and more vague on time (if you've noticed), simply because the game makes everything seem fast, but if you have realistic characters, I doubt they could advance so quickly in such a short amount of time. I would think it would take years to go from 10-85. But! I'm not being specific with time just for that reason. Not to mention, I have a hard time thinking the battles in Gilneas would last...so long. Ugh. Anyhow! Enjoy! Search for Djinjer AWorgens Tale on facebook for more information!  
_

* * *

"I don't want to do this!" shrieked a pale Human priest.

"Heal him, you idiot!" snarled the Dwarf paladin as he blocked another wave of attacks from the undead in front of him.

Djinjer slashed at their common enemy, but took a moment to glance at their most important teammate. The Night Elf warrior lay on the floor, fighting to stay conscious as blood poured from him. They had a total of two healers in their party: the Human priest and a Worgen druid.

"I can't keep this up for long!" shouted the druid over the sounds combat.

"Heal!" shouted a few of the others, quickly becoming enraged with the girl.

Djinjer couldn't help but think about what a tragedy this was becoming. After all of their hard work, the girl—Ellie was her name—decided that the abandoned citadel of Karazhan was far too frightening for her. What an idiot.

It felt like they had been at this for hours already. Then again, it took so long to get everyone together. There was their main warrior, a Night Elf named Dornius and she was the second warrior. The other shielded individual in their group was a Dwarf paladin named Ghazden. She may have been the first to arrive at the tower in Deadwind Pass, but the two joined her not long after. After, she met the Human priest, Ellie, followed by the Human rogue, Adam, and after him, two gnomes: Spencer the shadow-priest and Mickle the warlock.

Then came the longest wait. Djinjer couldn't believe her eyes as she saw the familiar white haired Kaldorei. The night elf huntress, Valisilwen, and her companion seemed just as thrilled to see her and she was to see them. Valisilwen's owl flew over to Djinjer, hooting his hello. The group spoke for a while, introducing themselves and chuckling at stories of their recent adventures. Just as they were becoming silent, another familiar face joined them.

The Draenei mage, Nephytari, was also part of their raiding party. Finally, the last appeared, a Worgen druid by the name of Carrie. Djinjer tried hard to figure out if she knew the girl, but she didn't look, nor smell familiar.

"I can't handle him on my own," the Dwarf wheezed out as the Steward of Karazhan disappeared. "You can bet he'll take out someone else! Group up, now!"

A high pitched scream caught their attention, followed by the throaty chuckle of Moroes. "Damn it, Ellie! Are you really so stupid?!" the druid snarled. Immediately, the priest was engulfed in green light, her wounds hardly being healed.

"Leave her," snarled their mage. "She's bleeding too much! Ghazden will need your focus!"

"No!" Djinjer barked out, rushing to the scent of Moroes. "Carrie! Focus on Dornius! Spencer, give us your heals, Ghazden, you heal that stupid pr-YEGCK!" Djinjer barely had time to block Moroes's quick attacks.

Moroes chuckled loudly. "Look at you, hoping to defeat _me_ when you're fighting more amongst yourselves!" Djinjer growled and shoved her sword against his dagger. She swung with all of her strength, but he dodged and embedded his dagger into her armor, shattering the chainmail that held her plate chest piece together.

With a burst of energy and renewed hope, Djinjer swung with more strength and power. She felt deafened as spells slammed into Moroes and arrows came dangerously close to her face. The human rogue was battling Moroes from behind just as panicked as she was. Djinjer gasped as the blade in her hand chipped and suddenly cracked. Moroes laughed again, this time in a high pitch. He ignored the spells, the arrows, even the persistent rogue behind him as he lifted his daggers up, preparing for a harsh attack against Djinjer. At this rate, she would be the next one down and out of the battle.

A guttural gasp escaped Moroes as the Night Elf warrior slammed into him. Seeming to forget about Djinjer, Moroes turned his attention to the battered but healed warrior. Falling right into place, the entire party picked up speed and the damage done to Moroes was becoming obvious. Djinjer cast a glance over her shoulder at the priest. Though pale with tears running down her cheeks, the priest did her job, but hardly. Djinjer could still see the druid struggling to get out as many healing spells as possible.

_'We won't be able to do this...'_ Djinjer thought to herself, throwing her strength back into the battle.

* * *

"We just aren't ready for this," said Nephytari.

"Speak for yourself," the rogue snapped out. "We're more than ready," and by "we" he meant the priest and himself.

"Look at 'er gear, look at 'er so called talent," the Dwarf snarled. "She is no more ready for this than you are! We could all have better gear, but that's why we're here!"

Moroes had barely fallen by the time that most of them were exhausted of mana or just plain exhausted. Right now, they sat in the same room, hoping not to be noticed by the large group of ghosts in front of them. Most of them danced and laughed, almost as if they didn't know they were dead. Perhaps they didn't know.

"I'm more than willing to keep going," the Night Elf warrior murmured in his baritone voice, "but she has to go." He pointed at the priest, whom honestly seemed embarrassed.

"No," the druid snapped out in her human form. "I'm done! I came here thinking we would have a good group, but-"

"You Gilneans! You think everything has to be handed to you because of what happened to your people! We lost our city, too!" one of the gnomes snapped out. "We weren't treated any different and we sure didn't expect things handed to us!"

"That's right!" the other gnome shouted. "We worked hard for _years_ to reclaim our home and we didn't need the help of anyone to do it!"

"I resent tha' remark!" the Dwarf twitched his nose.

"Fine," the Gilnean woman snarled. "Fine!" She yanked her hearthstone from her bag and gave Djinjer a hard look, "You better get out of here before they all turn on you!"

Valisilwen shook her head and sighed. "Perhaps disbanding is for the best. If we cannot work together, then we can never make it through something like this."

Most agreed and one by one, their party mates began leaving via hearthstone. At the end, the four that remained were the two Night Elves, the Draenei, and herself.

"I could have created portals for them," Nephytari said, then chuckled. "I understand the fear, coming into a place such as this, but I would never endanger the lives of my comrades."

"I can second that," Valisilwen murmured. "At least some of us got gear out of this. Just that amount will be able to help all of us in Northrend."

"Howling Fjord or Borean Tundra?" The warrior asked.

"Howling Fjord for me," Nephytari answered.

Valisilwen shifted uncomfortably, then muttered, "Borean Tundra."

"Same here," said the warrior. "Perhaps we will see each other in the near future." Val nodded in response. He then turned to Nephytari, "May I have a portal to Stormwind, kind mage?"

Nephytari chuckled, her cheeks turning from blue to a light purple. "You don't have to be so formal," she murmured with a smile. "Stormwind for the both of you, I expect?"

Both nodded, but as Nephytari conjured up their portal, Val knelt beside Djinjer, whom sat against the wall. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Of course," Djinjer replied weakly. "Why do you ask?"

Valisilwen gave her a dirty look, "You know damn well why." Djinjer smiled and nodded, "You know if ever you need me or Qiralyn, we're here for you." Djinjer held back a sigh as the cool air from Stormwind's Mage Quarter seeped from the portal. Valisilwen ran a hand through Djinjer's fur before standing and joining the warrior as they stepped through the portal.

"Ironforge?" Nephytari asked with a smile.

Djinjer finally sighed. "I think I'll wait here a bit longer."

"No," Nephytari shook her head. "I refuse to leave behind a friend...ever."

"Must be hard for you to go on your own quests then," she winked at the draenei, whose cheeks turned a darker purple. "Fine...I'll take that portal."

"Then so will I. But you better hurry before it closes." Djinjer grunted as she pushed herself off of the floor and stepped through the portal, followed by Nephytari. "I don't suppose you're going to head to Ironforge?"

"No," Djinjer murmured. "I'm actually going home...just for a bit."

Nephytari nodded and leaned into Djinjer, giving her a small kiss on the cheek. "Take care of yourself. We don't see each other enough."

"We'll make plans, I promise." Djinjer smiled and walked with the mage down the spiral of the tower until they parted ways. It didn't take long to navigate through Stormwind City, get in her little, rickety boat, and row over to the secluded alcove just north of the city. Just around the bend was an open area with five houses perfectly spaced apart. The houses sat on enough land to grow one's own garden and all of the cottages were connected by one large, wooden dock.

Djinjer was the first buyer of the seaside cottages and found that the area, called Newman's Landing, was perfect. It was just close enough to the city that it was easy to get there, but just far enough that the mountains surrounding the north side of the city blocked out all of the hustle and bustle. It took a month for the remaining houses to become occupied, and that was all due to a rumor that Newman's Landing was originally a hotspot for drunks and sailors...probably both.

Djinjer dropped her bag on the floor and made a beeline for her bed. The cottage was extremely cozy, what with a large living room and two average size bedrooms. The kitchen was hardly anything more than a fireplace, but it worked out and if you paid enough, it came pre-furnished.

She couldn't yank her armor off quick enough before collapsing onto her squeaky bed. Immediately, her thoughts began racing, much as they always had since she left Gilneas. Since Djinjer left Gilneas, she had stayed busy and rarely took time off. Mr. Wiggles didn't seem to mind the location. In fact, her pet pig found nothing but happiness with her neighbors, digging up truffles and being fed apples.

Djinjer stretched; her back cracked in several places. After leaving Gilneas, Djinjer progressed quickly, gaining attention from Stormwind's royal families. Her King seemed to expect nothing less from her. King Varian, on the other hand, seemed to think there was a reason behind her sudden aggression. Djinjer sighed loudly. She was certain he knew something of the situation...but how and why?

Why would anyone know?

_Did_ anyone know? Or was she just being paranoid? For the first time, for the very first time, Djinjer allowed her thoughts to trail her thoughts back to that very special moment.

* * *

From the moment she opened her eyes and realized that what happened was not a dream, Djinjer knew she would never forget, nor regret her actions with Zathaniel. Even in his sleep, he held her tightly to him, as if he didn't want to lose her. Djinjer couldn't help but smile and trail her fingers along the muscles of his chest. Soreness aside, Djinjer felt great. In fact, it was the best she had felt in a long time; the happiest. But even that happiness was short lived.

Djinjer caught a glimpse of Zathaniel's travel bag from the corner of her eye and like a powerful surge, curiosity got the best of her. It probably took her ten minutes to wiggle out of Zathaniel's embrace, though it had nothing to do with his grip. Instead, she stared at him the entire time and moved slowly, hoping not to wake him. When freed, she slipped out of bed and merely stood there. Djinjer never had the privacy to just stand around naked. Suddenly feeling shy, she found the first intact piece of clothing and slipped it on; it was a shirt of Zathaniel's.

Then, just as slowly and without blinking, Djinjer moved over to his bag and snatched it up. Zathaniel snorted and Djinjer stood there frozen to the spot. What felt like five minutes later, Djinjer finally made her way to the fireplace and stoked the embers. A bit of attention and the fire was crackling just as it was earlier.

For a while, Djinjer merely sat there, staring at his backpack. It was wrong of her to go through his things...it was even more wrong of her to not trust him, especially after what had taken place. She looked over her shoulder at him and sighed softly. "Sorry," she whispered out and unbuckled the bag. It didn't take long to find several scrolls, but she couldn't tell which one was the culprit. Which scroll was he hiding from her?

One by one, she opened them. The first was his map. The second was a detailed map of all the tunnels in Gilneas, as well as all of the secret passages of Greymane Manor. The third, shockingly enough, was composed of several portraits. Djinjer smiled as she looked through them. There was one of his family with him as an infant, his parent's marriage portrait, another family portrait only he was an adult in this one, then there was one of his family together with the Greymane family, and finally, there was one last portrait of Zathaniel and Liam. They had the same eyes, but Zathaniel had stronger features.

Djinjer's hands began trembling as she grabbed the last scroll case and once more, looked over her shoulder. Whatever he was hiding, she would soon know. Upon opening the scroll, she found that it, too, was composed of more than one item. The first drifted to the floor and immediately, she snatched it up and read it. It was a letter from Lorna Crowley.

_I hope this covers everything, Zathaniel. I have pulled many strings in order to get this position for you. You can never thank me enough, so don't bother thanking me at all. Running around the Eastern Kingdoms was never your duty. THIS was what you were always meant for. Time to stop being a child and instead, be a man. Lead your people the way Liam would have. As for the farm girl?_

Djinjer's stomach tightened and tears rimmed her eyes as she read the following sentence, "_Do what you must with her, but get it out of your system and leave her behind. She is no more wife material than Kimberly was. I expect her to be gone as soon as we have secured safe passage for you._"

It didn't sink in. She placed the parchment on the floor and looked at the next piece. This parchment was a document from King Greymane, stating that he approved of Zathaniel's position within the Gilnean Liberation Front. The next document was almost the same as the other, only this one was signed by both Darius Crowley and Lorna Crowley. It stated that he was now the right hand man of Darius and damn near an equal to Lorna. The next document stated that he was now the Eastern Lord of Gilneas, replacing Baron Ashbury.

Djinjer looked back at the letter and read over it again. She dropped the documents and stood up, trying to hold back the wave of sickness that hit her. She swallowed back the vomit and leaned against one of the nearby chairs. "_Do what y ou must with her, but get it out of your system._" Was that was this was?

Instinctively, she reached around and felt the back of her neck. For some reason, the fact that he bit her hard enough to scar her suddenly enraged her. How _dare_ he mark her?! How dare he take away something she could never get back?! How could he taint such an important moment for her?! Tears rimmed her eyes. She had to get out of the room.

Djinjer made a dash down the dark halls to the very room he had originally brought her to. There, she was sick, but she refused to cry. Not yet. Anger wouldn't allow her to do such a thing. Djinjer quickly dressed in her clothes and armor. With her travel bag on her shoulder, she walked back to the room and dropped it onto the nearest chair.

She rifled through his bag until she found what she was looking for. The hearthstone lit up slightly in her armored hand. If he was staying in Gilneas, he wouldn't need this anymore. There was only one way she could destroy it and if she did, there would be no turning back. At least, not immediately.

Djinjer picked up her bag again and found her own hearthstone. Dropping Zathaniel's onto the floor, Djinjer grabbed her own with her left hand and grabbed her weapon with her right. Anger surging through her, Djinjer slammed her weapon down onto the stone as hard as possible. Just as she thought, Zathaniel instantly woke up. He looked at her, then down at the papers and immediately, fear filled his eyes. "I can't believe you," but she couldn't finish. Tears and more sickness threatened to overwhelm her. She gripped the stone in her right hand and green light engulfed her.

"No!" Zathaniel shouted. "No, no, no!" He quickly hopped out of bed. "It's not what you think!" He dashed across the room and reached out for her...but it was too late. Djinjer found herself standing in the Inn she had bound her stone to. He had used her and almost by command. It was at the Inn that Djinjer broke down. She was swarmed by female workers and even tenants. Through sobs, she told them everything. And even though they didn't know her, each of them comforted her, one even paid for her a bed.

It didn't take long for people to start noticing the wound on the back of her neck. "What happened?" many asked. But what was she to tell them? For the most part, she replied with, "Battle wound," but even that didn't last long. Again, it was a Night Elf that had to inform her, much like Valisilwen had long ago. The Night Elf told her about the primal actions of the druids being carried over into their human forms. For a long time, they didn't fight against these urges and instead, embraced them. Those urges were now considered weak and often fought against if not completely ignored. What the mark meant, however, was something special.

It meant she was a life-mate. Or as humans put it, Djinjer was now married.

* * *

She placed her hand on the back of her neck and frowned. During their mating, Djinjer had the chance to mark him as well...and who was she to ignore her primal instincts? She had bit down onto the very scar she had given him so very long ago, which made her wonder. Were they mated from this mark? Is that why he tried to kiss her after their escapade on the Horde Airship? Djinjer hated thinking about all of this.

Tomorrow, she would wake up, she would go back to Stormwind to get some supplies and then she would return to the Howling Fjord. If there was one thing that helped with the pain of Zathaniel's betrayal, it was the beautiful scenery. Just when she thought Azeroth couldn't be beaten in beauty, she had to stumble upon the Outland. Hellfire Peninsula was nothing special to look at, but Zangarmarsh, Nagrand, and Netherstorm? They were breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe one day, she would have her own home in Nagrand, but for now Newman's Landing was plenty enough.

Djinjer repositioned herself in bed, getting more comfortable. She wondered if he ever thought of her... But again, Djinjer chased those reoccurring thoughts away. Travel, fight, travel. That was the only way to get through the life of a task chaser.


	43. Chapter 43

**Note: **_This entire chapter is written with a much different feel and tone. This is because I was hoping to capture the feeling of displacement and haziness that Zathaniel feels after losing Djinjer. This chapter is to give an idea of what Zathaniel is going through during the time that has passed since he and Djinjer were together. I apologize if it's a bit boring, but I enjoyed writing it :P As always, see my profile for the link to my Fanfic Facebook for more information on the story and its characters. I hope everyone enjoys!  
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* * *

Scouts sped past him quickly, but so very quietly. Under their paws, not a single twig snapped, nor did a dead leaf crunch. They were the best of the best, trained specifically by_ him_: a high class hunter. He didn't know why so many found that surprising. In fact, most hunters had some sort of scout training, and it was then that they decided to stay as scouts or evolve into hunters or rogues.

Not to mention, his father was Donathan Gilneau, the best rogue Gilneas had to offer, if not the best in all of the Eastern Kingdoms. It was his father that had captured Darius Crowley during the rebellion and it was his father that was originally summoned to work personally for the King of Stormwind, though his uncle was sent instead. Zathaniel's father had pushed him for years to be a rogue, but ever since he could remember, Zathaniel preferred being a hunter.

Snapping out of his train of thought, Zathaniel turned his attention to his surroundings. All of his scouts were well hidden, silently sniffing out the enemy. Now, more than ever, had the Horde attacked with furious strength. The attacks came multiple times a day, mostly from the same soldiers, who fell back to replenish their supplies and heal their wounds. These were strong soldiers that, at first, were almost impossible to push back. It felt as if they were playing tug of war with the land.

The soldiers of Stormwind's elite 7th Legion had to retake their lost land several times before Gilnean soldiers gained in strength and weaponry. Though demoralizing for their people, the 7th Legion's short reign was a much needed relief. It was under Zathaniel's command that they received stronger weapons, better gear, and most importantly, trained specialists that would continue the expansion of their own soldier's knowledge and expertise. Now, they were doing so very well that the 7th Legion returned to Stormwind to switch out soldiers, replenish their own supplies, and come back on a timed schedule.

Were things looking up for Gilneans?

Zathaniel wasn't certain if he could answer that, but they were definitely fighting stronger than ever. He was certain that if the people of Gilneas originally fought like this, the curse may not have spread and even if it had, perhaps they would have succeeded against the Horde the first time...and perhaps so many lives would not have been lost.

"They're guarding the mines with their best soldiers," whispered a female scout beside him. Her name was Jackie Wilderson, wife of the Worgen Druid: Nathar Wilderson. She was on of his best soldiers and was always quick to report on their status. "Shall we summon our finest?"

"No," Zathaniel murmured back. "Not yet. Tell me more. Do you have classes and numbers?"

"Numbers, no. They are well hidden. Some are even _resting_ within our people's homes. I fear they've slaughtered our workers."

"What implies such a thing?"

"I cannot smell them. Even if they were deep in the mine, I would smell something. You know this snout of mine." Zathaniel withheld a groan of frustration. If the workers and families of Emberstone were killed...

Darius was a fool to have let Lorna remove the guards. "It'll attract attention," she had told her father. "Do what you think is right," said Darius in reply. And look at what it got them. Removing the guards only allowed free passage to their people and their main source of minerals.

"Are you certain?"

The female worgen blinked several times before shaking her head. "I can never be certain with the stench of the Horde so close."

"Any estimate on how many soldiers we should bring? We don't want this to be a distraction just for the Horde to move in on more of our land."

"Ten at least, sir. As per your orders, we have enough scouts around Emberstone to make up for any numbers we may be missing."

Zathaniel nodded, "Move swiftly."

"Sir, yes, sir!" She saluted him and disappeared into the shadows. A fine rogue she would have been, but a scout's life was what she longed for.

Zathaniel began making his way north, but as he passed the nearby path, he froze. There was someone there, at the plateau. Before the Cataclysm, many couples—especially from Tempest Reach and Emberstone—married at the plateau. There were benches and even an archway with flowers woven through it. Each spring the flowers bloomed and everything from weddings, to parties and religious ceremonies took place there. Now, however, it was yet another spot in Gilneas where many gathered to remember those that had fallen. Red roses were left behind for every lost bride, lost groom, lost loved one.

But who or what was there?

He inhaled deeply, the sniffed several times. It was not a smell he was familiar with. Carefully, Zathaniel made his way up the path of the plateau, keeping Brutus behind. He withdrew his rifle and quietly stepped out into the open area. It was just as beautiful as ever, with its white roses and wild flowers moving gently with the breeze. But there, just before the archway, was a creature that did not belong to the Alliance.

The light red being was wiping at a dark purple bottle. She placed it among the other bottles that some people left behind as a last drink for the dead. He knew this creature to be an elf; a Blood Elf of the Horde. But why was she here? What was her purpose?

The elf swept her wild, dark hair to one shoulder and leaned forward, snipping at dead vines of the white roses. Was she really taking care of the archway's woven flowers? He allowed his eyes to quickly travel her frame, searching for weapons. She wore none that he could see, though she had many small belts carrying pouches and what appeared to be a an offhand. The elf could have been carrying a dagger, sword, or even another type of one-handed weapon that he could not make out from this position. He also couldn't help but notice her smooth red legs and slightly muscled arms. Was she a caster? Without a demonic companion, he doubted she was a warlock, but no priest wore such revealing clothes. Perhaps a mage?

From where he stood, Zathaniel couldn't help but think she was beautiful. Slowly, he lowered his weapon, which made the slightest sound. The elf gasped and spun around, quickly rising to her feet. Those glowing green eyes glared at him. "It's okay," Zathaniel said as he stepped forward. "Don't be frightened," she had nothing to fear from him. He was merely curious as to why she was actually paying respect to their dead.

The elf glared and took a stance he was familiar with: a caster's battle stance. Though he knew she would attack, something kept him from attacking. There was something about the way she so carefully tended to the roses that made him think...maybe she didn't mean any harm. Warmth suddenly filled the air and he immediately knew that this lovely elf was indeed a mage.

A ring of fire erupted from her, spreading his way with such force that it knocked him back, as if it were a wall of some sort. "Wait!" Zathaniel barked as he struggled back to his feet. The mage snorted and turned, running straight for the cliff. "No!" he dashed past the burning red roses and stopped at the cliff's edge. The mage looked over her shoulder as she flew away on the back of a fiery hippogryph. Something inside of him, some part of him thought of Djinjer and he couldn't help but give a small wave. The elf must have thought he was strange.

"Sir!" shouted another worgen.

He turned to look and found that the flames were engulfing the benches and slowly spreading to the surrounding plants...though the archway was still perfectly safe. "Quickly," he called to the worgen, who was accompanied by others. "Put out the fires before it spreads anymore."

The flames weren't serious, as if the spell wasn't meant to truly damage anything. She had purposely held back her power so as not to damage the area...how odd. Though her presence struck his curiosity, it was by no means strange. There was often that he and others witnessed pure kindness from certain members of the Horde. Druids especially seemed willing to help their wildlife. He only wished that they could all stop this meaningless fight. What could the Horde possibly want with Gilneas?

He had studied many maps and had quickly come to the conclusion that Gilneas was _nothing_ special. There were no special herbs or minerals. And with a little knowledge from Horde specialty books, he knew that there was no wildlife that was considered a delicacy among their people. Just what was so important about Gilneas? Was it because it was the last true human settlement in Lordaeron? Did they want the land? Or did they want the people?

War...battles...it all seemed so meaningless now. Before, they were protecting their people. They were trying to survive, but what now? Right now, they were protecting their land, their homes...their memories. Not many Gilneans returned from Darnassus or Stormwind. Not many of them wanted to live in constant fear, either from the Horde or dangerous wildlife. Because of the invading forces, there was no time, nor any possible way that they could rebuild their precious wall of safety, nor expand their damaged settlements. So why fight? Why protect something that the Horde could never take from them? It was memories and the feeling of home that kept them here, wasn't it? All of them, especially the 7th Legion, could be doing something far more important.

Traitor.

It was on the lips of many when they thought of Zathaniel. He expressed his thoughts and confusion once and never again. Many were outraged. Many demanded he be stripped of his titles and thrown into the very empty jailhouse. But even as angry as they were, they could not deny that in the short time that he served their army, he had made far more progress than Lorna Crowley.

It was because of him that they secured enough southern land to bring back their crops, though no land ever created crops as luscious as Duskhaven once had. The Blackwald's spider infestation was at an all time low again, which meant many of their people felt more secure about repopulating Stormglen Village. And most of all? He constantly insisted upon training their soldiers further in their specified expertise. But with a better Gilnean army, the Horde sent better armies of their own.

Zathaniel had continued on to his original mission: the retaking of Emberstone. He arrived in time to brief the newly arrived soldiers of their situation and without further delay, the soldiers of the Alliance attacked.

The battle that took place was fierce. It was just as Jackie Wilderson said, the Horde numbers were largely hidden. Even as they fought, Zathaniel couldn't help but notice one thing: all of these soldiers were vastly under-geared for such a mission. They seemed young and perhaps too rambunctious. The high-season gear they wore was merely a ruse to trick Gilnean soldiers into thinking this group was better than they were. The Horde soldiers fought with fear and excitement, which supported his theory that the soldiers were unfit to be here. When all were slain, their best soldiers set up guard around Emberstone while most of his team searched the mines.

There was no smell of death within the tunnels, which brought comfort and hope to all of them. Unfortunately, however, they didn't just find their living citizens. They found the true threat. Within the very center of the mine, they found their people bound, gagged, and blindfolded. They were being protected by heavily armored soldiers of the Horde. Fortunately, it was only a small team of seven, while they were a team of thirteen.

Their numbers didn't seem to matter.

The Horde's more experienced soldiers plucked out what little under-geared scouts he had brought into the mine. They fought against those that remained with precision he had never seen before. And the more they fought, the more it seemed that this team may even best them, solely due to their precision.

It was one wrong move, one wrong person that shifted their odds. Jackie Wilderson came bounding into the mine with a lit explosive. She threw it toward the healer of their party and just as he thought, the explosive was quickly taken care of and the attention of the party turned to Jackie.

Time froze for Zathaniel.

He knew what would happen and sadly, it would save all of them. Maybe Jackie knew it as well, because she stood taller in that moment. Pride and honor radiated from her as she did was she could to protect herself from three soldiers. He couldn't even turn away from her death, because it opened the perfect opportunity to slay the Horde party's leader. One shot. It was echoed in his mind, though it was muffled by every other sound in the mine. The bullet slammed through the orc's helmet but just a moment too late.

The orc's blade had already slammed into the crook of Jackie's neck. A warlock of their own team set fire to the rogue that slashed at Jackie's belly. The rogue howled and screamed until another of their team finished him off. The third attacker was quickly brought down by both Brutus and a tamed lioness. Jackie fell to the cold, stone floor without a shred of life in her. It was her time. It was how she was meant to die. There could be no resurrection for her. Jackie Wilderson was dead.

Her death didn't go unnoticed, even if it seemed that way. Their soldiers fought harder and demolished the rest of the Horde soldiers. All but one had their corpse magically disappear. Their bodies were summoned to their spirits. Nearly all of them lived. Did the Horde feel the loss of their rogue as deeply as they were feeling the loss of Jackie?

Their people were saved because of that one woman. Their taken land was reclaimed. The Alliance soldiers remained behind, caring for and protecting the villagers. His scouts were immediately set up throughout the forest surrounding Emberstone, where they would keep an eye out for any retaliation from the Horde. He, on the other hand, took a horse and wagon into the city with Jackie's body.

And now, he and the team of scouts that worked beside his second-in-command, sat in the tavern, listening to Lorna Crowley give her very recited speech about the loss of a comrade. "She will _never_ be forgotten," Lorna said, coming to an end. "May we raise our glasses-"

Zathaniel looked up as the tavern doors opened with a bang. The dark skinned man stumbled in looking far more wild than he had the last time he was seen. Nathar Wilderson was once a very humble gentleman that never had a hair out of place. To see him with his hair braided and adorned by feathers and wearing dirty leathers was almost a shock. Distraught, the man stumbled over to the body of his wife, wrapped in linen and leather. "Jackie..." He sobbed and held his glowing hands over her body.

Most of their team turned away, unable to watch as the druid so desperately tried to bring his wife back. A pain filled roar erupted from him as he collapsed against the table her body was placed on. Zathaniel placed a hand on the druid's shoulder, but it was quickly swiped away. "Don't touch me!" the druid snarled. "You were supposed to protect her! Under your command, she was supposed to be_ safe_! I told her not to go back out there! I told her to stay _home_! She was pregnant! _She was pregnant_!"

Zathaniel stared at the man, anger coursing through his veins. Slowly, he turned his glare to Lorna Crowley. "I will take the blame for her death, Nathar," he said, his eyes on Lorna. "But know that her death was truly the fault of another." In his time of knowing Lorna Crowley, he never thought, not for a moment, that he would hate her as much as he did now.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" Lorna snapped, immediately irritated. "You think your poor decisions were my fault?"

"No, I think your poor decisions got my best scout killed!" Zathaniel roared out, fighting back the urge to transform. "We have lost too many people, Lorna! You can't afford to be stupid!"

"How dare you-"

"Both of you calm down and be silent!" Darius snarled, walking out from the back room. Lorna had been updating him before Zathaniel brought in Jackie. He didn't even appear when Zathaniel _demanded_ Lorna replace the current team of scouts surrounding Emberstone with another set so that Jackie's comrades could mourn her. "I won't have the two of you dishonoring our fallen hero, especially in front of her husband. You are both dismissed. I will finish up here and arrange her funeral."  
Zathaniel took one last look at the mourning husband, who held his wife in his arms one last time. "Farewell..." he murmured.

As Zathaniel stormed out of the tavern, an emptiness filled him. In truth, he always felt empty, but even more so when he was alone or lost someone dear to him.

"Don't you think you over reacted a bit?!" Lorna snapped as she jogged to catch up to him. "You're _still_ angry, aren't you?"

He didn't even bother looking at her. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

"Zathaniel, do grow up! You think Djinjer is missing you?! She's move on with her life! Just as you should!"

He didn't know what came over him, as he spun around and grabbed Lorna by the throat. He slammed her against the nearby wall and squeezed, just a tiny bit, just enough to let her know he was serious. "Lorna, what's wrong with you? You are not the only person that lost someone they love. You are not the only person that lost Liam. You tell _me_ to move on? _Me_?! I am not the person ruining everyone's happiness! I am not the one sulking at the graveyard _every_ time I'm off duty! Damn near _every_ death that has happened since I've come back to Gilneas has been your fault and why?! Because I'm close to them? Do you purposely put my friends in danger because you can't stand to see anyone happy?! Do me a solid, Lorna, and leave me the hell alone!"

He released her and began storming away.

"I was wrong about you!" Lorna shouted. "You're _nothing_ like Liam!"

Zathaniel stopped and turned around. "And that's what's wrong with you, Lorna. Liam and I were _never_ the same. He's gone. I'm not. Deal with it." He couldn't think of any word to express how he felt. He didn't even know how to deal with what he felt. When he got to his home in the city, he closed and locked the door, sliding down onto the floor. He didn't want to think anymore. He didn't want to continuously miss...her. Hell, dealing with the death of Kimberly was easier, but perhaps that was because she was supposed to be gone forever. Djinjer, on the other hand, was somewhere out there.

Zathaniel sat against his door for a while, his thoughts lingering on their last moments together. The look of betrayal in her eyes haunted him to this very day. How often did he wake up, expecting for it to be a nightmare? All he wanted...was to see her; to know that she was okay.

How stupid of him, to have given up everything. However, if he hadn't agreed to Lorna's demands, he would have never gotten Kimberly out of Gilneas. For a moment, he wondered how she was doing. Did she take to the Horde kindly? There was too many times that Zathaniel wondered if he'd come across her in battle.

Zathaniel sighed, but grimaced as Brutus licked him, catching his nose. "Thanks," he muttered, placing his arm around the pooch. He looked at his companion and the dog snorted at him. "Don't look at me like that," he murmured. A whine escaped Brutus. "Do you miss her?" Brutus sneezed and shook his head. "Me too. ...Do you think I should leave?" The dog merely stared back.

"If I leave, I'll be abandoning my duties...and Lorna may have me stripped of everything. What a furious woman." He sighed heavily. "You know, I may be able to get some vacation time if I see Darius behind her back," he chuckled. "I honestly don't feel like leaving. Brutus snorted again and it was as if Zathaniel knew what the dog was thinking. Originally, Brutus was trained to be a delivery dog. Word of his conference with Darius would not get to Lorna if it was just Brutus. "Good boy...smart boy."


	44. Chapter 44

**Note:** _Totally sorry for not uploading for a while. First, Mists of Pandaria was released, so I HAD to level some of my characters, lol... But then as I was going to upload this chapter, which had been finished for a bit, my computer wouldn't turn on. The computer that I enjoy writing on was quite old but a good machine. It never had a virus once and it lasted much longer than I expected. Now, I could have easily replaced the power supply, but my husband was like, "NO! WE HAVE TO BUILD AN EPIC COMPUTER!" I'm pretty sure I could hide a gnome or two in my tower now... Or maybe it's the prototype for the Daleks (50 dork pts for anyone that gets that) Regardless, here's the chapter! I'll be able to upload regularly now :)  
_

* * *

The room was too quiet and what made matters worse was that he had no appetite. He sighed as he took another bite.

"Is there something wrong with your dinner?"

The blond boy sitting across from him looked between his father and Zathaniel. Zathaniel turned to the King of Stormwind and cleared his throat. "No, not at all, your majesty. The dinner is delicious. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. I apologize for my lack of appetite."

"I imagine eating something as rich and flavorful could be upsetting to a stomach used to stale and moldy food," but Anduin blanched. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said something so rude."

Zathaniel grinned. "It's fine. Believe it or not, the few crops we do have sprouting in Gilneas are producing well...and stag does get a bit boring to eat, but it's better than nothing." The young prince smiled, obviously feeling forgiven.

Everyone said that Anduin looked like his mother, but Zathaniel completely disagreed. Anduin was the splitting image of his father, though when he said so, many argued that his mother's kindness shined through. It was eerie looking into Anduin's eyes...mainly because they had the same eyes, as did King Varian. It was the one physical trait that seemed to pass through their related link.

"Anduin, I've invited Zathaniel to dine with us because starting tomorrow, he'll personally train you in the ways of a Hunter. Make sure you listen well and learn."

Anduin sighed heavily and looked at his father with disappointment. "You know I'm not interested."

Zathaniel, feeling far more comfortable than he should have, quickly added, "It's never a bad thing to know more than one skill in combat, especially if it's ranged."

"Spoken like Wrynn," the king murmured, drinking from his goblet. "Tell him more."

Zathaniel fought back the feeling of sudden discomfort and turned his attention to Anduin. The blue eyed boy looked back with rebellion. "My father raised me to be a rogue, much like himself. He was the best...at least, out of our army. Every birthday, I received new daggers, or upgraded daggers...swords...axes...even maces. If there was a weapon that could be dual wielded, I knew how to use it. But I didn't want to be a rogue," that peaked Anduin's interest.

"What did you want to be?"

"Obviously, a hunter." Anduin blushed and Zathaniel grinned again. "I loved sharpshooting. I loved besting other hunters. I loved being a perfect shot. And no matter what my father tried, he couldn't take that away from me. Eventually, I took the family dog and trained it to be my own companion. It infuriated my father but...he realized it was a lost cause, or so he thought. I was surprised when the next birthday came around and I had a bow...followed by a gun, so on and so forth. We went hunting and when it came time for me to prove myself to our army, I found that I couldn't use rifles or bows up close. Against other classes, I was almost useless—not because I was a hunter, but because I didn't think outside the box. I didn't think along the lines of survival, until I remembered my father's training. Because of him, I now carry various weapons and I know how to handle myself from afar and in close quarters combat."

"When you put it that way," Anduin frowned. "I guess it makes sense."

"It makes perfect sense, Anduin. And remember, I am no where near as lenient as _his_ father was," the tone in Varian's voice was almost threatening. He turned his own blue eyes on Zathaniel and stared at him, but it felt as though he was looking through him. "In one month's time, I hope to see progress."

"Let's hope this archery lesson doesn't end up like the last one," Anduin sighed into his crystal goblet as Varian shot him a dirty look.

As they continued their quiet dinner, Zathaniel couldn't help but feel disappointed. Darius had contacted their King, whom met him at the dock. Zathaniel was then taken to the castle, where he was informed King Varian wanted to see him. King Varian seemed determined to have Zathaniel and no one else train his son in the means of archery, though it was a known fact—even to Zathaniel—that Varian was handy with a bow on his own.

His aunt seemed so entirely certain that Varian wanted his son (and possibly himself) to get to know their cousin, though Zathaniel was finding that hard to believe. King Varian didn't seem like the type of man to go out of his way to get to know anyone. All that mattered to Zathaniel was that he find Djinjer, no matter what it took. 

* * *

Djinjer quietly placed her back against the Vrykul building, doing her best to swiftly sharpen her double headed axe. She paused only for a moment, looking around as she returned to her smaller human form. It would be easier for her to hide that way. With her lungs burning from the harsh fight, long run, and cold air, Djinjer wondered if she was becoming a coward. First, she fled Stormwind. Then, fear drove her to not return to the Borean Tundra. Now, she was getting in over her head and fleeing the enemies of the Howling Fjord and _hiding_ from them.

Djinjer thought back to what spooked her in the first place. It had been her first morning in Stormwind. She was going to sleep in and just when she had decided on that, there was a loud knock on the door. Ignoring it, she thought she would be able to return to sleep, but how wrong she was. When the knocking turned into banging, Djinjer gave up on her sleep and stormed over to the door, only to find a pale Elijah.

It took some coaxing, but once he started talking, Djinjer started to feel sick. Elijah had been in the Trade District of Stormwind when he saw the prince on a brilliantly armored steed. Beside the prince was his new personal guard and trainer...who just so happened to be Zathaniel Gilneau. Elijah, in his joy, greeted Zathaniel and paid for a drink, which lead to the real problem: Elijah mouthed off to Zathaniel about Djinjer's new place.

It was only because of the prince's presence that Zathaniel didn't immediately go to her house, according to Elijah. And unfortunately, he also mentioned to Zathaniel that Djinjer was doing tasks in the Borean Tundra. That gave the hunter and expert tracker all he needed to know to hunt her down. Fear coursing through her, Djinjer did the only thing she could do: relocate. Hell, even part of her wanted to sell her small home.

She knew that she would have to return to her home in Stormwind and she knew that eventually, there would be a confrontation, but she would prolong it as long as possible. The one thing that she wondered was what happened in Gilneas that Zathaniel left? Wasn't his duties too important to leave behind?

Djinjer instantly snapped out of her thoughts as she heard a strange noise. Pocketing the whetstone, Djinjer gripped her weapon and slowly stood up, returning to her worgen form. If there was one thing that was very different about the Borean Tundra and Howling Fjord, it was the Vrykul.

The Vrykul were towering giants that looked very similar to humans. They fought viciously and moved quickly, which was surprising given their stature. The green rolling hills of the Fjord took Djinjer off guard and immediately reminded her of Gilneas before the cataclysm...until she met the enemy.

Djinjer took a deep breath, hoping to smell something different in the air. Her hopes crashed and burned, because all she could smell was the stench of Vrykul and their feces, which they so kindly left lying around.

She froze.

There was the sound again. It was almost as if something was being dragged. Slowly, Djinjer made her way to the very corner of the building and took another deep breath. This time, it was to calm her nerves. Mustering up her strength, Djinjer roared as she sprung out into the open, slamming her axe down, only to come to a complete stop.

A small drop of dark red blood spilled down the orc's forehead, settling on the bridge of his nose. The orc was covered in red, almost black blood. She quickly glanced around him and found two orc allies beside him; one had its limbs torn away. The orc took a heavy breaths and pulled his head away from her axe. Their eyes locked, freezing her even more in place. What was she to do? He was unarmed and injured and part of her, though it was small, wanted to help him and show him that she was not his enemy.

Were the situation the other way around, she would have already been executed, wouldn't she?

She stared into his indigo eyes and for a split second, he seemed a bit attractive. His face was much slimmer than most male orcs that she had seen. He also had thick black hair, which was pulled back into a neat ponytail. Even his full beard seemed neatly brushed. What struck her about that being odd? She didn't think orcs could be neat creatures, especially when it came to hygiene. The teeth that jutted from his bottom jaw were no where near as large as the others. Most importantly...there was something _human_ in his eyes.

Both of them jumped, startled by a shouting Vrykul. Djinjer instantly reacted, letting out a roar of her own. What happened next shocked both her and the orc. Djinjer stood over the injured orc, protecting him against the warriors, which were quickly surrounding them. Her weapons clashed against the nearest vrykul's axe and without hesitation, Djinjer began fighting for not only her life, but the life of the orc. Too injured to even stand, he could do nothing to protect himself...or so she thought.

The orc quickly sat up, chucking his axe with expert aim. His heavy axe imbedded itself into the neck of another approaching vrykul, most likely saving both of them. She knew if they were to survive this, she would have to think and rely more on her senses than her human brain. Djinjer swung her axe with all of her strength, lopping the vrykul's head clean off. Not even a half-second later, she was fighting another. This one moved slower and welded a spiked club, one that appeared too heavy for the brute.

Instinct driven, Djinjer blocked his attacked and lunged forward, biting at his neck. Mashing her teeth down, Djinjer disposed of the vrykul and moved to the next, immediately removing that one's arm. She spun around and sliced the jaw off of another and with another turn, landed her blade into that one's forehead.

Djinjer heard a distinctive grunt and quickly turned her attention to the orc. He braced against the attack with two smaller axes, but would soon be killed if she did nothing. He was barely holding off the attacks against him and for the first time, Djinjer noticed he did everything he could to move away from the enemy with one very limp and immobile leg. She snapped her sharp teeth at the fist of the vrykul without a jaw then quickly charged the warrior attacking the orc. Djinjer brought her heavy axe down onto the back of the vrykul's knee, separating his lower leg from his body.

Another orcish axe slammed into the vrykul's soft abdomen and with all of her strength, she hopped over the length of the vrykul's body and landed heavily on his neck. With a snarling growl, she turned back to the others and continued with her assault. When each of the attackers were dead, Djinjer turned to the orc, panting heavily. He looked exhausted, but grateful.

With her ears perked, Djinjer listened intently for any more possible assailants, then asked, "Do you understand me?"

The orc's eyes met hers again. Once more, Djinjer felt a strong curiosity about his human features, which made her feel ashamed. This was hardly a time to sit down and ask about his looks! It's just...she had never seen an orc look so different before. "Of course," he answered in a gruff and deep voice. "We orcs," he took a deep breath, "make it our duty to learn enemy languages."

Again, she didn't know why that seemed so surprising. Perhaps it was because all orcs she ran into looked stupid and fought like brutes. "Can you walk," she breathed out. The cold, northern air continued to burn her lungs and nostrils. He shook his head and Djinjer returned her axe to it's holder upon her back. When Djinjer walked over to him and held her hand out, she received a baffled look. "What?"

"Are you blind? Can you not see that I am Horde? That I am your enemy?" For the first time, she noticed that he also cradled his right arm to his chest.

Djinjer shrugged with one shoulder, "We saved each other just now. Take my hand. I will help you."

He stared at her for a bit then grabbed her hand. As a worgen, they were not much different in size. Carefully, she helped the orc stand on his one good leg and supported him as much as she could. "Don't suppose you know where we can seek shelter, do you?"

"Midwall Lift," he murmured. "East." He grunted as they began their trek east. "The lift takes you down to a safe area. My comrades and I rested there for two nights undisturbed."

Djinjer said nothing as they continued east. Their trek instantly became harder as they had to go uphill. There was a small argument about her dragging him uphill, but that was quickly ended with a simple, "I will not allow Alliance scum to drag me up a hill while I am still breathing." Even if he seemed apologetic, Djinjer joked about holding his nose while she dragged him. The glare was worth it.

By the time that they made it to the lift, Djinjer began feeling the pain of supporting him. Her muscles trembled beneath her heavy armor and found relief once he pulled away from her and supported himself against the lift's wall. Slowly and automatically, it began lowering. "I wonder how these things work. Does someone tend to them?"

The orc shrugged. "Perhaps it's on a balanced system of weights. When one goes down, the other must go up." He shrugged again, as if to reaffirm that he didn't really know. The orc grunted and clenched his jaw together as the lift impacted the deck a bit too rough. Djinjer immediately opened the gate and began helping the orc out.

"Of _course_ there are stairs," Djinjer murmured, gripping the orc tighter. But the two of them made it down the stairs and to the small campsite, which the orc suddenly seemed forlorn. He didn't speak as he lowered himself down to rest against a large log. Djinjer glanced at the unlit fireplace, which suddenly reminded her of how cold this place was. "Right, well, let's take a look at you."

He didn't move. He didn't say anything as she knelt beside him and began feeling his arm tenderly, from the shoulder down. "I imagine this would be easier without the leather gear," she murmured with a soft, grumbling laugh. "Then again, you might catch a cold with your luck."

The orc grunted as she got to his elbow. "Is this-"

"It's broken just below the elbow. My leg is broken in several places. I've also been poisoned, but with my training, it isn't a threat."

"Right." Djinjer licked at her whiskers much as she would lick her human lips. She grabbed his traveling bag and careful helped him out of it. He didn't even seem to care when she started looking through it. "I can't find any bandages," but she did find two different types of jerky and an entire roast. She pulled some of the jerky out and handed it to him. "You need your strength...and you wouldn't happen to have any potions, do you?"

He shook his head, seeming to ignore the jerky that was placed in his good hand. "Bugger." Djinjer sighed heavily. "I don't have anything, either. Looks like we're both bad at stocking up needed supplies."

The orc ignored her. In fact, he didn't say much as she sat there with him for another twenty minutes. Sitting still while traveling Northrend wasn't something she enjoyed. In fact, she was certain that no one enjoyed Northrend, because Inns were always full and it was hard to actually get a bed that wasn't occupied. In fact, she had bought an overpriced bedroll just for those moments; anything to get out of the cold wind.

Knowing that he wouldn't care, nor reply, Djinjer took it upon herself to light the campfire. Even if the fire was small, the warmth was much appreciated. "Tilani!" the orc said loudly, startling her. For a moment, they stared at each other, then he explained. "Tilani was a female companion. She was a shaman, but far from ready to be out here. We were certain, my traveling companion and I, that we could protect her. But," he shook his head. "Tilani and Durgor had an argument that ended with Durgor acting like an infant. He kicked her supply cache into the water," he nodded to the open water.

Djinjer blinked a few times before she turned her eyes to the water. It was dark and looked very unwelcoming. "You want me to get it?"

"I'll split the loot with you."

Djinjer sighed. "You can have it all...but why is it so important?"

He gave her a look, one that clearly told her that he thought she was just as stupid as she thought he was. Djinjer fought back the grin. "Tilani was not just a shaman, but an alchemist. She carried bandages, potions, anything and everything with her. We can part ways as soon as I am healed."

With one more look to the orc, Djinjer sighed heavily. This _had_ to end well. 

* * *

"Welcome to Valiance Keep!"

Zathaniel nodded at the white haired gnome, but he never stopped surveying the town. The journey to Northrend was an enjoyable one. Not only did he break away from his duties as the Prince's damn caretaker, but the chill in the air reminded him of Gilneas on a winter morning. Though, the harbor settlement looked nothing like anything in Gilneas!

Golden lights danced in the sky as clouds lazed about. The sudden beam of light brought his attention to his right, where a lighthouse stood out in the open. An ice breaker ship was stationary in the middle of the harbor, separating a wooden tavern from the stone keep. Zathaniel looked to his left.

What a view...

In the distance stood what looked like a partially submerged Night Elf temple. As he walked forward, Zathaniel couldn't help but enjoy the ambiance of Valiance Keep. He could hear seagulls above him, gryphons squawking now and then. Fishermen were shouting about their catches, which—unfortunately and yet pleasingly—the smell seafood lingered in the air. He completely ignored the tavern's door, which expelled warmth from its door and instead, continued to look around.

He immediately came to a stop as his eyes landed upon a large statue depicting a young Varian Wrynn. The similarities between the two of them unnerved him. "Either get back to work or sign up for the army! Don't laze about!"

"Why do we need an army if the Lich King isn't a threat anymore!"

Zathaniel turned his attention to the right of him. Sitting in front of what appeared to be a chapel were two heavily armored men. One looked bored, the other was storming over to a worker. "Do you _ever_ take your head out of your ass to look at what's _still_ going on out there? And look at that!" Zathaniel followed the gesture of the armored man. A Horde Zepplin was flying overhead, making it's way to rocky ridge. With his sight, Zathaniel could see what appeared to be a Horde building in the distance; most likely their base.

"The battle between the Horde and the Alliance will always go on, no matter what threat is looming in the world! Yet here you are, day after day, sitting on your wide can!"

"Give it a break, Carven. Unless we take more land, we won't need carpenters...and unless we lose numbers, we won't need new soldiers here," said the other officer, who sighed heavily.

Zathaniel ignored the bickering men and looked to his left. He wondered if it would be okay to cross the icebreaker and waited until he saw someone else do it. A few workers were on board, tinkering and hammering away at the ship. Apparently, it needed fixing. He continued onward, making his way up the right set of stone steps.

But as he came to a sudden stop, he was bumped into. Zathaniel had every intention of turning around and apologizing, until he saw just who bumped into him. A younger version of his blue eyes met his own in both horror and relief. "What," Zathaniel gripped his younger cousin's arm, "are you doing here?!"

Anduin's identity was only being protected by the outfit he wore. Commoner cloth mixed with pieces of cheap leather and a thick, but worn hood hid his face away for the most part. "Father told me of your departure."

"And what? You decided to follow me and bring me back?"

"No," Anduin murmured. "I wanted to go on a journey. I always get into trouble on my own...and even sometimes, when we have the best guards."

"Well isn't that wonderful?" Zathaniel sighed, releasing him. "You'll be the death of me, kid."

"I won't be any trouble."

"You're right, because you're going home, even if I have to take you myself."

"But why?" Anduin frowned. "I'm old enough to get out into the world. Father thinks of me as a child!"

"You _are_ a child!"

"But father achieved so much at such a young age...younger than my age!" Zathaniel's knowledge of King Varian Wrynn's achievements may have, at one time, been limited, but Zathaniel enjoyed catching up on everything once he left Gilneas the first time. King Wrynn's life was far from an easy one and for the prince to say such a thing...

Zathaniel sighed. "You fancy a life of solitude, enslavement, and loss?"

This time, Anduin sighed. "Fine, I get it. I understand. I'm not a child, though, Zathaniel."

"You can stay for a while," Zathaniel murmured. "While I don't agree with the idea of you picking up tasks and traveling on your own, I do think you need to see the world for what it is. You're old enough to start making your own decisions and your own judgments. But _stay close at all times _or I'll kill you myself!"

Anduin smiled. "Thanks."

The feeling of freedom to do as he pleased suddenly vanished and he knew that his quest to track down Djinjer would be far from as simple as it could have been. But as annoyed as he was with the prince, Zathaniel couldn't help but feel a bit of comfort. The kid was okay...and for a moment, Zathaniel wanted to smile. So this was how Liam felt in the beginning of their friendship.


	45. Chapter 45

**Note:** _Sorry for any typos, I wrote this pretty quick and wanted it uploaded ASAP. With the holidays, it's been really busy where I'm at and I haven't had much time to sit and really write onto the fic. I also have a big project coming up with another writer. It should be fun and I'll keep you guys informed! As for the chapter, I really had a rough time with it, mainly because I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do...but it worked out. Again, sorry for any typos, I didn't exactly read over it :P As always, you can find more information about the characters, trivia, background history, and view photos on my Facebook page. You can find the link on my profile. :) I hope you all enjoy and have a happy holiday!  
_

* * *

"This better be worth it," Djinjer murmured as she waded through the water. Ignoring the intense cold of the water seeping into her gear, Djinjer walked until the water was waist high and then began swimming. As soon as the water darkened, Djinjer called out, "I'll be back soon! Hang in there!"

She didn't get a reply, not that she expected to. The orc wasn't fighting off the poison half as well as he thought he would have. Instead, he quickly developed a fever and slipped in and out of consciousness. The only good that came from this was that he no longer felt the pain in his leg.

Djinjer took a deep breath and fully submerged herself. Despite how cold it was, the water looked quite beautiful. Shining through the surface were rays of light, making it much easier to see. With some large crabs and fish here and there, Djinjer didn't see much else that lurked in the water. There was some plant life, boulders, and—_there!_

Djinjer began swimming to the box that was just at the base of an underwater fern. It hardly took any effort to pick it up and swim to the surface. "That was easier than I thought," she murmured, swimming forward until the claws on her toes scraped the dirt. "You better be alive!" she barked out as a bad feeling gripped her.

"Feels warmer in there," Djinjer muttered to herself, which was true. The cold Northrend air was harsher now that she was wet. In fact, it seemed to make her armor turn to ice. She was certain that her armor was actually sticking to her flesh _through_ her fur! "Orc?" she called out. With no reply, Djinjer's bad feeling only got worse.

Djinjer got a better grasp on the box and quickly walked up along the trail and over to their campsite. She sighed heavily as she set the box next to him. Again, she couldn't help but wonder if the same would be done for her, were the shoe on the other foot. "Conscious?" she asked.

The orc grumbled and cracked open his eyes. "Did...you get...the supplies?" he breathed out.

Djinjer nodded and used her weapon to force open the lid. Djinjer froze as she looked at the damaged supplies. Every health potion was smashed or nearly empty. The bandages were soaked and looked completely drained of their healing capabilities. "Well," Djinjer murmured. "There's anti-venom. I suppose that's a plus."

"What... What..."

"The supplies are damaged." She began fishing around the herbs that were in the box. "And I'm not exactly an alchemist." From the few bottles that were more in tact, Djinjer realized something crucial. There was enough to save him from the poisoning...or enough for one bandage that could possibly heal his leg. "There's not enough to heal you completely. I can dry the bandages and soak up what's left of the potions...but it won't be enough to draw the poison out."

"Just...give it to me..."

Djinjer placed each small bottle to his mouth and poured whatever remained into his mouth. Instantly, he began looking better. Color returned to his face and his eyes were no longer clouded. "Last one," she murmured. After the last swallow of potion, the orc coughed and winced. He gripped his leg and groaned.

"It's trying to heal," he murmured. "There's just not enough to help it," he hissed loudly. "I think the bone healed somewhat."

"I wouldn't put any pressure on it," Djinjer murmured, shivering. "Well, if we aren't going to use these," she tossed the herbs and wet bandages into the fire. At first, the fire died down a bit, but quickly picked up.

"You are kind," the orc murmured. She flashed him a smile and shivered again, but said nothing in return. "Please, hand me my backpack. I have a spare cloak you can use to dry off."

"You should keep it," she murmured, handing him the backpack.

"Nonsense," he was definitely feeling better. "It is old and unneeded. I was going to sell it anyway." He handed her the cloak, which wasn't all that bad looking. It was white with leather across the top.

"Well, thanks," she murmured, removing her gear. The orc, surprisingly enough, looked away as she removed her gear. Djinjer didn't mind, to be honest. She felt that as adventurers, you'll have to see your partner disrobe from time to time. Djinjer peeled off her wet cloth clothing and placed it on the spit beside the fire. "It's so good to have those off."

She returned to her human form and immediately began wiping herself down, desperately wishing she had packed more undergarments. She wouldn't be able to pull those off. "I mean it, thank you." Djinjer couldn't help but be amused as the orc's eyes snapped back to her, obviously shocked by her scratchy, human voice. Djinjer grinned. "Like what you see?" she teased, noting that he was looking her over.

"Not remotely," he replied honestly, "But..." he shook his head.

"What is it?"

"I wouldn't expect such a frail looking thing-"

"HEY!"

"I wouldn't expect...someone like you under all that fur."

Djinjer continued drying herself, pulling her hair down from her ponytail to work at it. "I'm not frail," she murmured, pointing out her scars. "I never was. I was a farm worker back in Gilneas...and I always wanted to be in the army!"

The orc chuckled. "Well, carrot, you're cuter this way."

Djinjer sighed softly. "The name's Djinjer-"

The orc suddenly burst into laughter. "Really? I suppose you were named that after your hair color?"

"_No_!" she snarled, rustling her hair with the cloak and whipping it back at the orc. Of course, she_ was_ named Djinjer because of her hair, but she wasn't about to tell the orc that.

"Keep it. You'll need to stay warm until your clothes dry."

Djinjer shrugged and squatted down next to the fire. "It's all wet, besides, if I get too cold, I can go back to my other form. Fur keeps you warm, you know."

The orc was quiet for a moment, then softly said, "I prefer you like this." When she didn't reply, he continued to explain, "Normally, I don't see a human as a person. I see them as the enemy, using verbal insults to try and intimidate others. They brawl with their fists like animals...over the most stupid things. And their women, pah!" He shook his head. "They are so thin and frail. The ones the men ignore and don't want are by far superior. Their weight and strength shows that they are great for breeding, but then again. Humans make no sense."

Djinjer chuckled, "It's interesting to hear what your lot thinks about mine. I suppose in a way, we're all a bit odd to one another."

He shrugged. "I mean no insult."

Djinjer shrugged in reply. "I can't be insulted, after what I was lead to believe of your people."

"Let me guess, brainless oafs with brutes for women? Me hit stone with big stick! Me break stone!" The two chuckled. A moment of silence passed and he murmured, "Gak'tor."

"What?" Djinjer pushed her hair behind her ears.

"My name is Gak'tor...and it is an honor to meet you." Djinjer smiled. "In the morning, we must leave. We cannot continue to stay here. You have your duties, as do I."

"But you can't walk."

"I was thinking about that," he replied. "Perhaps..." he sighed heavily, color rising to his cheeks. "I am thin for an orc. I must be, to be a rogue." If _he_ was thin for an orc, she wondered what was considered large.

"You want to see if I can carry you back to your camp?" He looked up at her, as if horrified and embarrassed. "Problem with that. ...I don't want to get killed."

"Thought about that, too." From his backpack, he pulled out a tabard.

"Oh...for the love of Gilneas. I hope no one from _my_ side sees me in that and what if they still kill me?!"

"They won't." He seemed so certain. "I will make sure of that."

There was an awkward moment of silence, then Djinjer muttered, "Never thought you orcs could hold full conversations."

* * *

"Thin my arse," Djinjer wheezed out as she leaned against a tree for support.

"For an orc, yes," he grumbled.

She took three whimpering breaths before pushing off of the tree and walking as quickly as possible. "We look like fools!"

"It doesn't matter how we look. Stop your complaining!"

"You're not the one wearing an enemy tabard and carrying the enemy on your back!"

"You're right, I'm just a _male_ being carried by an enemy _female_. That's not foolish at all!"

Djinjer growled as she hobbled forward to another tree. Using it as support, she straightened up and Gak'tor repositioned himself on her back. "I just know it. This is going to bite me in the arse."

"I'll bite you in the _ass _if you don't stop your whining!"

"Good luck, there's plate covering my butt." Her response got such a laugh out of him.

They continued to move forward, slowly. Every now and then, Djinjer had to have Gak'tor reposition himself. The farther she got with him, the more her back ached, her hips burned, and her legs felt ready to give out. "We're nearly there," he murmured beside her ear. In all of her life, she never thought she would be so thrilled as to inhale the putrid stench of the Undead. Having kept her head down, Djinjer finally looked up, only to see the sheer confusion on the faces of the guards.

With a regrettably deep breath, Djinjer continued walking forward. "She's with me," the orc called out. The sound of a crossbow being readied was easy for Djinjer to recognize, even from her distance. "I expect safe passage for my companion and myself!" he called out and to her surprise, she could make out the sounds of footsteps.

Four boney feet appeared in front of her. "I am crippled," Gak'tor told them bluntly. "This..._worgen_...has so graciously helped me."

"We can fetch a wagon," murmured the female guard.

"No," said the male. "The wagon will not fit into the lift."

"_We_ will have to escort them ourselves," the female grabbed Djinjer's snout and forced her head up. Were it not for Gak'tor, Djinjer would have bit her. "After the rogue is returned to the base camp, you _will_ leave immediately."

"I had no intentions of staying," Djinjer growled out with her teeth clamped together.

The female nodded and that was that. Djinjer was now stepping foot on forbidden grounds. For the most part, Djinjer kept her eyes on the ground, following the feet of the armored guards, but once their party arrived at the lift, Djinjer was blind folded.

"Very smart," she snorted. "Blind fold the person carrying the wounded soldier. That's very safe."

"You're a worgen," the male soldier murmured. "I've seen your kind do many things without sight, hearing, and sometimes, limbs." How that made her blood boil. "Do us a favor and be silent. Your journey is soon to come to an end."

The lift jerked as it hit the wooden deck and the door opened with a loud screech. "I hope we don't get shot," said the female soldier.

"No," said the male, "It was a grand idea to have _her_ wear the Horde tabard, Gak'tor. Granted, if she is kept prisoner and experimented on, I can't be held responsible."

Djinjer fought not to reply. In fact, she was certain she would say nothing else from this moment on. Until Gak'tor said, "You are a brave soldier. Not many Alliance would help a fallen Horde, nor would many carry that Horde upon their back, right into enemy territory."

"It's okay," Djinjer replied in a softer voice. "Horde or Alliance, we're all just people and sometimes we need help. I couldn't leave you there."

"Before we part ways, most likely forever...what made you halt your blade?"

Djinjer blushed under her fur, "Your eyes. I've only seen orcs with blood lust in their eyes. I've only seen soldiers in combat against _my_ people. But..." somehow she managed to shrug, "You looked different."

The female undead muttered something in what she knew was common Horde language, to which the orc replied and the male undead chuckled. He added something and Gak'tor grunted a short answer. She wondered what they were saying. In fact, part of her wish she knew the Horde common language.

Silence fell upon the small party as they continued to walk. Several times, she stumbled over something that worried her. It felt like bodies were littered on the ground and the smell of rot seemed greater, fresher, if that made any sense at all. Finally, they reached a bit of a hill and a dirt path. There was nothing quite like walking into a town bursting with sound, only for silence to wash over them.

Djinjer froze as she heard the sound of an undead horse rearing up in the distance. Hooves beating upon the ground, she knew it had to be someone of importance making their way over to her and her party. "What is this?" said a gravely undead voice.

"I am Gak'tor Bladefist, son of Drathon Bladefist."

"Distant relative of Kargath Bladefist. I know. I remember. You don't have to go through the entire thing every time to speak to me. Tell me, rogue, what is the meaning of this?"

"This Alliance saved my life and offered me care."

"And obviously failed at that task," said the male upon the horse. "I assume that neither of you had the proper means to heal your injury, and she decided to bring you here?"

"_I decided_ and she...was willing."

"Tell me, Gak'tor, son of this and relative of that, didn't you think that she could be a spy?"

"I know she isn't."

"And why's that?"

Gak'tor shifted upon her back. "Spies do not wear plate armor. She was just as surprised to find me as I was surprised to find her. All I ask for is her safe return to her people."

"Hm," the male grunted. "Why was she blindfolded? Is she blind?"

"No," the female guard muttered. "We figured it was best that she didn't see-"

The male upon the horse let our a cackle that sent shivers up her spine. "We have Alliance flying overhead all the time. We spy on them and they spy on us. We attack them, they attack us. There was no point in blindfolding someone carrying a wounded soldier. _Our_ wounded soldier."

Gak'tor slipped the blindfold off her and immediately, she was grateful. Djinjer hated having any of her senses toyed with. The soldier sitting upon the undead mount was obviously someone of importance. Though his face and eyes were covered with two black leather bands crossing over each other, he still _looked_ at her and spoke to her, as if he could see her. "The Horde thanks you for your generosity. You there," he shouted, turning to a nearby orc and troll, "Bring Gak'tor to Sally Tompkins. She'll patch him right up."

Djinjer couldn't express the relief she felt when the two helped Gak'tor down from her back. He exchanged a look with her, rather than a vocal goodbye. She knew that he would never forget her or her kindness, just as she would never forget him. Djinjer would have smiled, but she knew that worgen smiles weren't always received properly.

"I am the High Executor Anslem and this is Vengeance Landing. A word to the wise, worgen. Remove that tabard at once. Leave it here, behind you, and be swift in your return to your people. If you are lucky, they will not execute you for treason. Now go. Leave. But not by foot. I'll assume you have a hearth stone on you."

Djinjer nodded.

"Then go." The High Executor pulled the reins of his steed and turned away from her. The two guards walked away from her, heading back to the lift. Djinjer took one good look at Vengeance Landing and removed the tabard. A sliver of worry made itself present in her mind, but she ignored it and searched her bag for her hearth stone. She didn't know what to expect upon her return, but when her vision recovered from the flash of green-white light, Djinjer was horrified to find guards standing around her.

"Finally!" called the older man, who she knew was Vice Admiral Keller. "You can't imagine the look on everyone's face that came here as we waited for you, traitor."

Djinjer groaned. "Really? _Really_? Of _course _this would happen. I help one person and it's not _them_ that over react. It's my own kind!"

The guards behind her grabbed her shoulders and forced her onto her knees as the Vice Admiral stepped forward. He leaned over her, placing his face close to hers. "You forget, dog, that you are not _my_ kind."

Djinjer yelped as she was hit on the back of her head. She felt how hard the wood was as she slammed against it. She saw the blurred feet moving around her and finally, she felt the cold and damp cell she was placed in. How did the Horde know this would happen? Had it been a warning...or had they known it would happen? Surely, it was just an assumption of what _could_ happen...right? Even in her daze, Djinjer couldn't help but wonder if she had been spotted or even followed by an Alliance soldier.

She fought to regain her vision, to blink through the blurriness, but it was pointless. Djinjer nearly welcomed the unconsciousness; anything to sleep through the pain and exhaustion she felt.


	46. Chapter 46

**Note**:_ Sorry about not uploading in forever. Real life, ya know how that goes. Just a tid bit of information here. I know that by the time Djinjer would enter the dungeon (bahaha no spoilers :P) the bosses would have already been defeated, but bare with me. I really didn't want to create whole new baddies with whole new purposes, so I stuck to what's there. I hope you guys don't mind. Also, at the bottom of the fic, you'll find the information of the party she is with. I think I stressed their classes/races/names enough in the chapter, but if you still aren't certain, I threw it on there to help. Also, sorry for any typos!_

* * *

If one were to put their ear to the jailhouse door, they would be able to hear an odd shuffling sound. But what would that person think? Was someone moving around what little furniture a prisoner was given? Or would they think that their most recent prisoner was escaping?

Djinjer froze, her ears perking up.

"Stay still in there," a guard called out at the door. Djinjer listened for his footsteps to fade away and continued digging. The cellar of the tavern was a make-shift jailhouse, one that had dirt floors and old wooden walls. How easily Djinjer pulled several bars loose and how simple it seemed to dig her way out. The only problem? Djinjer would be leaving all of her belongings behind, or rather, what was left of them.

As soon as Djinjer came to, the guards alerted the Vice Admiral, who made certain to show Djinjer just how certain he was that she would never return to her life as an adventurer. Claiming to need new materials for his latest batch of recruits, the Admiral had all of her gear and weapons melted down. Anything of interest in her bag was taken by the Vice Admiral, even her gold. Her hearth stone had been shattered and even her change of cloth clothes and underclothing was given away.

Djinjer came to a halt and sighed heavily. How could helping someone ruin her life so very badly? Would they throw their prince in jail if he helped someone from the Horde. That made her wonder for a moment, did the Horde have their own royal family? And what would happen to her once she did escape? ...Would she always be on the run or could she join the Horde? What would that be like... And that would make all of her friends and people she knew her enemy.

Djinjer's stomach churned. The Vice Admiral would make certain that she would stay forever, wouldn't he? With another heavy sigh, Djinjer thrust her clawed hand into the earth and continued digging. With her strength and speed, Djinjer managed to dig her way to freedom in only a few hours. She slipped into her human form and carefully crawled through the darkened tunnel. As she pulled herself out of it and onto the cold grass, she half expected to be caught right then and there. How shocking it was to find that not a single guard was around.

She dusted herself off quickly and pressed her back against the tavern, slowly edging to her left. Peering around the corner, she found that not only were there night patrols with lanterns, but the new batch of recruits were being spoken to by the Vice Admiral. Djinjer's stomach tightened and quickly, she dashed to the other side of the building. Two guards on horses were walking away from her and if she were careful, she would be able to dash up the trail behind them. The trail, much to her surprise, would take her right out of Valgarde. But then what? Without the proper gear, she could endanger her life.

Although...

She was once a feral worgen, living without armor or weapons. Perhaps she would have to rely a little more on instinct, but if that's what it took to be free, then that's what she would do. She wondered if she could cross all of Northrend to make it back to the Borean Tundra and take the ship there to return home.

Djinjer took a deep breath and peered around the corner again. The two guards were looking around with their lanterns held high. From the looks of it, they would turn around and begin making their way to her direction at any moment. It was now or never. Djinjer pushed off of the wall, throwing herself into her worgen form and began running as quickly as possible.

This was too good to be true!

There were no whistles, no bells, not single alert of her escape!

Until something snapped painfully around her wrist. Djinjer couldn't hold back the yelp as she slammed into the ground, skidding several feet. She gripped her wrist, and looked up. As much as she hoped that no one heard, it was now clear that they had.

"Halt!" shouted one of the two horsemen as they began charging her way.

Djinjer looked down at the trap around her wrist and frantically began clawing at it. A gasp escaped from her as the claw on her thumb snapped clean off. Ignoring the pain, she stood quickly and pulled at the chain on the trap.

"It's the prisoner!"

"The worgen's escaped!"

With each second that ticked by, the window of escape was quickly closing. Djinjer yanked with all of her might until finally, the rusted chain snapped. She turned to run, she took one step forward and let out another yelp. An arrow slammed into the lower part of her leg, sending a tremendous amount of pain through her. Whimpering, she slammed onto her knees and made the mistake of returning to her human form. With a smaller wrist, the trap slapped shut even tighter.

Another gasp escaped her as a heavy net was thrown over her. "Don't move, or we'll fire again!"

She said nothing as she continued clawing at the trap, attempting to remove it. "Don't bother," the Vice Admiral's voice said from afar. "Those traps don't open unless you have the key." He tossed the key chain in the air, catching it with the same hand. "And if I were you, I'd immediately stop fidgeting. You'll bleed out if you keep it up."

Djinjer glared at the Vice Admiral as he slowly walked up the hill. He crouched down in front of her, pull the net from her. "You know, you're easier to look at when you aren't covered in fur."

Djinjer couldn't stop herself from spitting at him, but immediately gasped as he back handed her. "Do it again, I dare you," he growled out. "Get a healer over here!"

As soon as the Vice Admiral removed the trap from her wrist, blood began pouring from the wound. She groaned softly as she gripped it, hoping to slow the blood. The healer that arrived was a young Night Elf and though her skin was blue, she still appeared to pale at the sight of the blood flow. With trembling hands, she healed the wound, which immediately felt better. The Admiral grinned and grabbed the arrow, snapping it and yanking it through the wound.

The pain made her want to cry out and strike him, but she refused to let him get to her. Clenching her teeth, she ignored the healer, glaring at the older man in front of her. How she loathed this man with a passion. "Is she good?"

"Y-yes," the elf murmured out, standing up quickly.

"Then be on your way. You two, accompany the prisoner and myself. I want to see how she escaped." The Admiral grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her to stand quickly. He grabbed her wrists in his other hand and snarled out, "Now show me how you got out!"

"Over there," she growled, nodding toward the tavern.

The Admiral shoved her in the direction Djinjer nodded in, forcing her to walk along with him. "And how the hell did you manage this?"

"There were some loose boards on the wall. I ripped them off...and I _think_ you can put together the rest."

Vice Admiral Keller chuckled loudly. "Just like a dog to dig yourself out. Let me ask you, why escape when you know that we'd catch you?"

"Well, I figured you weren't smart enough to think I wouldn't dig myself out so I thought maybe I could get away with it."

Keller laughed and released his grip on her hair. "How would you survive out there? Against the vrykuls, the storm giants...and all the other nasty things out there. You have no money, no armor, no food or water...hell, you don't even have proper clothing to withstand the elements. Even if you can turn into a beast, how feral are you willing to go?" Djinjer only answered with a glare. The Admiral smirked, "You want your freedom? You'll have to work for it. Until then...your _tail_ is mine." When she still didn't reply, he spoke in a firm voice. "I'll let your wrists go...but if you try to escape, I'll have one of these two soldiers shoot to kill."

Djinjer rolled her eyes and shifted her weight. "Fine."

The Admiral released her wrists and for a moment, the two merely stared at one another. "Follow me." Keller didn't say anything until they reached a tower near by. "Bring it forward," he commanded of the two tower guards. Without hesitation, the guards grabbed a crate and brought it out to her, dropping it far too close to Djinjer's toes. They removed the top of the crate, revealing its contents.

"You'll find everything you need inside this crate...a full suit of armor, a sword, and a shield. You'll report to me personally from now on. Your first task is to lead a party into Utgarde Keep and slay all within, particularly, Ingvar the Plunderer."

"There's a problem with that," Djinjer murmured, snatching up the sword and shield. "I don't specialize in protection."

The Vice Admiral approached her and took a deep breath. "It can't be that hard. Take the gear, take this map, and move on. There is a party waiting for a leader. Be that leader."

"I don't want to be anyone's leader," she snarled, throwing the sword and shield back into the crate.

Keller shoved a map against her chest, "You either serve me or you're back in that cell. I told Wrynn to keep your kind in the Tundra. Why that changed, I don't know. You have until morning. I'll have a guard on you until-"

"I'll do it. I'll even go right now."

The Admiral looked her over and nodded, pulling a small satchel from his belt. "Here's your gold. Get some supplies before heading out."

* * *

"_It can't be that hard_!" Djinjer snarled as she blocked the attacks of three vrykul with three already lying on the floor, dead. The giant men, obvious blacksmiths, had absolutely no qualms with attacking them. One would assume the men would have been curious to the invading party of five. Instead, they were furious and very defensive.

Djinjer yelped as she was shoved back, toppling over the Draenei Hunter's pet. The gray worg let out a yelp, but continued attacking. "On yer feet!" Nagmil, the Dwarf Shaman, shouted. With a grunt, Djinjer shielded herself from the oncoming attacks and quickly got to her feet. She shoved her shield with all of her might, sending two of the three Dragonflayer Metalworkers crashing into the Human Rogue. Dorian cursed loudly, as this allowed the third vrykul to land an attack.

Fearing for her party, Djinjer let out a roar that caught their attention. Again, she engaged in battle and this time, she kept their attention. The older blond male fell first, followed by the younger male with dark brown hair and long beard. The third and final male had dark brown hair, but it was short and he appeared middle age.

"Have you done this before?!" Dorian, the human rogue, snarled out.

Djinjer hunched over, breathing heavily. How could she tell them that this was the first time she had ever been in the position of a protection warrior? Djinjer wasn't used to the shield and quite frankly, the vibrations from the blocked attacks hurt her arm. "No," she groaned out. "I was forced into this."

When no one said a word, Djinjer looked up. The Draenei Hunter, Mehkhell, was tending to the wound his worg had suffered. The Human Shadow-Priest, Madaleen, was fidgeting with her gear as she bit her lip, looking quite nervous. The Dwarf Shaman, Nagmil, slowly drank from a flask, watching her with curious eyes. But Dorian? Before this very moment, Djinjer had no idea that the human eye lids could open so very wide in pure shock.

Dorian's mouth was moving quickly, but he voiced no words. Feeling thoroughly insulted, Djinjer lurched upward and let out a low pitched growl. "If any of you think you can do better than me, by all means, go right ahead!" Though Dorian's mouth shut with a snap, there was no other reaction from the group. "I was forced into this," she repeated. "I don't want to be here. I never wanted to be a shield for anyone! If you have a problem with me, I'm sure someone else will _eagerly_ take your place."

"I think I could do better than you," Dorian sneered. "It takes a special kind of moron to be bad at _blocking_ attacks!"

Djinjer bared her teeth, ready to defend herself, but the Dwarf cleared his throat. "We're doin' fine, lad, calm yerself. I haven' had this much fun in o' while. Now, play nice, or like the lady-beast said, go on yer way. I waited for days for a shield. I won' be waitin' no more."

With Nagmil's approval, the party turned back to the dungeon before them. Djinjer approached the end of the hallway, staring at the furnace, which looked like a face spewing fire. "Right then," she said softly. "Off we go."

The forge was large with several sections being separated by a wall of flame; the very flame that the "face" spewed forth. With Dorian unwillingly on board, the party disposed of the Forge Masters quickly. They, the party quickly found out, were responsible for the wall of fire. Of course, with each Forge Master slain, the next group of vrykul were aware of their presence.

Djinjer's body was already beginning to ache as she lead the way up a small flight of stairs. As soon as Djinjer got a clear view of the room before her, she let out a loud groan. "Dragons," she murmured. "Of course they have dragons."

"Tha' would be why they're called the Dragonflayers," Nagmil said with a chuckle.

"And to be specific," Mehkhell murmured, "Those are not dragons, but proto-drakes."

"I don't really care what they are," Djinjer replied, watching a proto-drake descend from the sky into the room, "_I_ have to block their attacks."

Again, the dwarf chuckled. "Have a bit o' faith in yer healer!"

"Right. Let's get a move on. If I act quickly, I can take their hides...drake hides are always worth a lot more on the market." Of course the rogue would want the hides!

"Alright," Djinjer said with a heavy breath, "We're going to go left. Got it? _Left_." She looked over her shoulder, wondering if there would be questions, but with the certainty on all of their faces, Djinjer took three quick breaths and charged the nearest dragon handler.

The dragon handler gasped in pain, his back arching and his eyes widening in horror. The proto-drake behind him reared up, flapping it's wings as it opened its mouth to roar. Mehkhell let out a snarl of his own as he let a particular arrow fly from his bow, embedding itself deep into the proto-drake's neck. This, thankfully, kept the drake from roaring and apparently made it harder to douse her with fire. Fearful that the drake would free the arrow from its neck, Djinjer focused on the creature, slicing and jabbing at its under belly while blocking heavy attacks from the dragon handler.

Djinjer yelped as she threw herself to the left, just as the drake reared up and lurched forward, attempting to bite her. Having dodged the beast, it instead bit its handler. Djinjer's own eyes widened as Dorian ran along the proto-drake's back, shoving his daggers into the back of the drake's neck. It stumbled forward and fell to it's death. At first, Djinjer assumed that was a good thing. At first, Djinjer thought that maybe the rogue put aside the fact that this was her first time being a shield and wanted to give it his all.

But after the handler began attacking her with more ferocity with only Mehkhell and Madaleen attacking him in return, Djinjer stole a second to glance at the rogue, who was quickly working on the drake's hide. "Damn it!" Djinjer snarled. "Worry about that later! We'll wait if we must but kill the enemy first!"

Dorian ignored her and continued working quickly.

Angry, Djinjer ignored all proper skill maneuvers she knew as a protection warrior and merely dodged the enemy's attack, hacking at his bared arms and chest. With a thud, an arrow suddenly embedded itself into the handler's head and just like that, the handler fell to the floor, dead. Tired and feeling weak, Djinjer looked at her party. They had been waiting for this, for _her_, for far too long to just give up. She had to push on...didn't she?

Four or more drakes and their handlers were still occupants of the room. She worried that if they were not careful, she would gain the attention of everyone in that room at once...and there was no way she could handle all those drakes.

"How are we going to get through this room?" Madaleen murmured softly. "It seems impossible."

Djinjer glanced over her shoulder at the woman's shadowy form. "We can do this...we'll just...have to somehow distract them."

"Or we could go through the feeding trough." Djinjer turned to find the Draenei Hunter looking into what appeared to be a tunnel. "From the looks of it," he pointed to the end of the room, "we could bypass all of the enemies and no telling where we'd come out from."

"That's the part I'm worried about," Djinjer replied.

"Oh sure, you're more worried about where we'll come out of than what we'll have to crawl through!" Dorian snarled. "Take it for an animal to be okay with it."

Djinjer bore her teeth, but refrained from growling. Before she could argue back, Nagmil stepped into the trough. "We'll be in these troughs before too long if you don't keep yer trap shut! Now get a move on!"

Nagmil disappeared into the trough with the Draenei and his companion behind him. Though Madaleen gagged twice, she hesitantly followed Mehkhell. Djinjer stared at Dorian for a while without saying anything. She stared at him long enough for Nagmil to reach the second entrance into the trough. When he said nothing and didn't move, Djinjer nodded. "Do what you want, then."

Cursing her sense of smell, Djinjer quickly made her way into the feeding tunnel and quickly caught up to Madaleen. For the most part, everyone was silent. That was probably because they were all too afraid to open their mouths and vomit everywhere. More than once they had to step over flesh or bones that had gotten caught. Nagmil let out a low pitched gag, but kept going. "We're blocked in!" he said, perhaps a bit too loudly.

"That can't be!" Madaleen whimpered out. "I can't bare to look that rogue in the face and let him know he was right! And imagine what the enemy will think!"

"I don't think the enemy will care that we've been slinking around in their beasts' feeding tube," Djinjer snapped out. "Blocked in how? I mean...is it just shut or...?"

She could hear him straining against something, but with a heavy sigh, he replied with, "Yer going to have to get yer tail up here."

"Why does everyone assume I have a tail?" she snapped, carefully maneuvering around Madaleen and the hunter's pet.

"I can't make anymore room," the Draenei said, pushing himself as much as he could against the wall.

"Don't worry," she murmured, quickly transforming into her human form. "I think I can slip by like this." Even in her human form, Djinjer had a tough time squeezing past Mehkhell, whom looked completely embarrassed. Nagmil was a bit easier to make it past but of course and right after, she returned to her worgen form. "Alright," she said softly. "Everyone back up a little bit. I'm going to force this bloody thing open."

With all of her might, Djinjer slammed her shoulder against the little door. It shifted, but it didn't budge. Growling softly, Djinjer then kicked it with all of her might. Again, it shifted, but didn't budge. Frustrated, irritated, and feeling a good bit embarrassed, she gave it one more try. This time, Djinjer threw her shoulder at the door with even more force, but gasped loudly as she hit nothing, somehow spun around and landed face first on the floor. That would have hurt as a human, but it hurt even more as a worgen with a protruding snout!

Djinjer hissed and grabbed her snout, trembling in pain. "Dorian!" Nagmil said happily.

Djinjer looked up at the rogue only to find him looking down at her. Blinking back the tears from the terrible pain, Djinjer moved aside so that the remaining party could evacuate the grotesque feeding tube. She couldn't help but return to her human form, wiping away at the warm blood that oozed from her nose. She had broken it, she knew she had.

"_Wow_," Madaleen murmured. "You sure do look different like that."

Djinjer wiped at the blood again and looked back at the shadow-priest. "Yeah, well, I _was_ completely human...once."

"Looks broken," Nagmil murmured as he approached her. "This'll smart," he said and right as she was going to ask what he meant, he placed his two thumbs near her nose and straightened it.

The pain seemed to be worst than when she was stabbed or burned or anything! Oh, the tears it brought to her eyes! And the humiliation! How badly she wished she had _never_ left her cell! "There ya go," Nagmil murmured as a green light trailed from his fingers to face. "Pain's gone?"

She sniffed, wiggled her nose and sighed heavily. "Yes. Thank you."

He chuckled. "Don' thank me. This 'ere is my job."

Djinjer pulled her sword and shield from her back and sighed heavily. "How the hell did you get over here anyway?"

"I'm a rogue," Dorian shrugged. "It's kind of my thing to be unnoticed by others."

"But how did you find us?" Madaleen questioned, doing her best to clean her robes.

"I followed the trough until it disappeared...then I came to the main room here," he shot a thumb over his shoulder, "and the first room on the left was here. I heard a thumping so I decided to be nice and open the door—which was locked, by the way—for you."

"So you aren't a jerk after all," Madaleen said with a smile.

"Oh, no. I am a jerk, I was just being less of one."

"Anyway," Djinjer interrupted. "What's over there?"

"Besides a round table with a map of the Howling Fjord with both the Horde and the Alliance camps marked? Just Prince Keleseth and some vrykul."

**Tank** – Djinjer – Worgen – Warrior - F

**Healer** – Nagmil – Dwarf – Shaman - M

**DPS 1** – Dorian – Human – Rogue - M

**DPS 2** – Madaleen – Human - Shadow Priest - F

**DPS 3** – Mehkhell – Draenei – Hunter - M


	47. Chapter 47

**Note: **_This chapter's really short, but after writing 46, I quickly realized that I hate writing about dungeons or parties...it's much easier to deal with a few people rather than a bunch, not to mention the reality of a dungeon. Why the hell would you-as an enemy-focus on ONE person. Kill em all with fiery farts from hell! ...Or something like that. Regardless, I tried to do a back and forth sort of thing in this chapter, primarily because I wanted the readers to remember that Zathaniel is still out there 3 He's mah babay. I want a mini version of him to keep in my pocket. Anyhow! Please remember that whatever **lore** is in this chapter is **not true to Blizzard - WoW lore**. I just base my lore off of theirs :3 I apologize for any typos, double words, misplaced words...whatever. :) For more information, please visit my profile for a link to my Facebook page dedicated to this fic!  
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* * *

Djinjer took a several deep breaths as she gripped her sword and shield, attempting to calm herself and focus on the task ahead of them. However, in a position that she normally never took, Djinjer couldn't help but feel completely responsible for her party's safety. If she failed, she brought them down with her. If they all lost their lives...then it would be her fault.

Djinjer froze as Dorian placed his hand on her plate pauldron. "Don't think about it," he told her. "Just go in there, get their attention, and keep them from hitting us. That's all you really have to do. How quickly they die is up to us."

"We'll do our best," Madaleen chirped. Feeling slightly more confident, Djinjer smiled and quickly returned to her worgen form.

"No one will be dying on my watch!" Nagmil lifted a flask into the air, took a long swig, and nodded. "Now I'm ready."

It felt like time slowed down as she stepped out from behind the crates of the hallway. Her heart was pounding so loudly she didn't hear any of the giant men shout as she severed the spine of the nearest vrykul. Dorian seemed to appear from no where, slicing the oaf's neck open with what appeared to be sharpened barbed wire. Another vrykul, obviously a spell caster, let out a howl of pain as an arrow plunged deep into his lower abdomen.

Mehkhell's worg launched itself onto the caster, biting and shredding the flesh of the caster. Djinjer moved to her next opponent, blocking several of his attacks as Dorian slammed his daggers into the enemy's kidneys. A low pitched hum accompanied by whispering screams hit her ears, grabbing her attention. She slammed her sword into the chest of the large man in front of her, quickly turning her attention to the odd howl. What she found two of the vrykul running away from what appeared to be translucent skulls encased in a circle of runes.

Adrenaline burst through her body as she launched herself at the two men, slamming down on the ground between them. One fell to the stone floor while the other stumbled. Djinjer attacked the stumbling fool first, finding herself completely amazed by the stream of blue and dark purple light. The spell appeared to be focused on the man's head, seeming to cause him great pain and anguish. Mehkhell's worg then attacked the other man alongside Dorian, while Mehkhell himself helped finish off the oaf she was fighting.

"How pathetic!" she heard a voice snarl. "Your blood is mine!"

Djinjer spun around, charging the owner of the voice. It came as a shock, to see what appeared to be a undead elf garbed in jewels and blood red robes. She gasped as the elf swung a fist at her, forcing her to the floor. Prince Keleseth chuckled as he summoned forth a spell, launching it at Nagmil. Panicking, Djinjer launched herself at Keleseth, swinging her sword. He dodged several times before finally shouting, "Aranal, ledel! Their fate shall be yours!"

"Djinjer! Behind you!" shouted Madaleen.

Djinjer slammed the hilt of her sword against Keleseth's brow ridge, then back handed him with her shield. She spun around and ran toward a group of large skeletons, thankful that Mehkhell joined in on the attack. Arrows expertly flew past her, dazing the skeletons. A growl ripped through her chest as she swung her shield against the skeletons, then charged the prince again, taking his attention off of Dorian. Keleseth let out a growl of frustration as two of his skeleton warriors broke, collapsing onto the ground. Being so close to such a dangerous enemy left her with no way to truly pay attention to her party. She glanced over her shoulder from time to time or stole a glance when she spun around to execute an attack.

"Aranal, ledel!" he shouted again. This time, both Mehkhell and Madaleen attacked the skeletons, which was a load off of her shoulders. She and Dorian expertly dodged the prince's attacks, whether they were casts or simple punches. One thing was for certain, he didn't seem to care about the others in her party.

But then, he looked away from her and glared in another direction. Dorian used this opportunity to shove his poison covered blade into the prince's back, though he didn't seem to notice. "Not so fast!" he growled out. Madaleen screeched, but Djinjer didn't have time to look behind her. She slammed her shield against the prince, shoving him as hard as she could. Dorian sprung up behind him, shoving a dagger into the prince's spine while Djinjer slashed his throat. Though an inhuman sound slipped from Prince Keleseth, he fell to the ground with no other movement.

"Madaleen!" Dorian shouted, sprinting away from the body.

Djinjer spun around, only to find their shadow priestess encased in a tomb of ice. Slowly, she walked over to Madaleen, and flicked the ice with her gloved finger. "So what do we do now?"

"I'm afraid that if we break it, she'll break as well," Dorian murmured, chipping away at the ice with his daggers.

"We can't leave her here," Mehkhell murmured, tending to his companion. "We must leave her if we wish to continue you."

"No," Djinjer replied. "We can't make it without her. And even if we could, I wouldn't want to leave her."

"Then, let's take a chance..."

"No!" Dorian shouted as Nagmil slammed his mace against the base of the ice tomb. "What have you done?!"

The tomb slowly cracked upward, spreading quickly through the tomb until finally, it shattered. Madaleen collapsed to the floor, gasping for air and shivering violently.

"Heal her!" Dorian shouted at Nagmil, despite the fact that Nagmil was already handling it.

"I don't want to hear anymore about leaving people behind," Djinjer said in a firm tone. "As soon as Madaleen is ready, we're moving on."

* * *

Zathaniel took a deep breath as he listened to the rain tapping against the tent's wall. His cousin sat across from him, shivering as he huddled in a blanket made of frostweave. Anduin had pulled his bed as close to the fire as he could, hoping to warm his chilled body. "How are you not cold?" he finally asked, as if annoyed that he was the only one affected.

Lazily, Zathaniel shrugged. "I don't really pay attention to it."

Anduin blinked and shook his head. "That's not really an answer. I don't buy it."

Zathaniel grinned. "I was conditioned for many climates and situations, Anduin. Also, do not forget that as a worgen, my body temperature is higher than yours."

Anduin was quiet as he stoked the fire. "Sometimes, I wish I were something more than just a human."

"I would gladly trade places," Zathaniel said softly. "I miss the days when I could lounge about in Gilneas City, doing whatever I please. You shouldn't take it for granted. One day, you will be King and when that time comes, you will _long_ to be a child again."

Anduin shifted uncomfortably. "Changing the subject," he muttered, "What ever happened to your lady friend?"

Zathaniel suppressed a groan. Anduin had asked him that question nearly every moment of rest they had. "Do I ever answer you?" he asked in a harsh tone.

Anduin grinned. "I think that perhaps one day, you will grow tired of ignoring the question or frustrated...and eventually, you'll answer."

"Were you not a cousin of mine, nor a prince, I think I'd bite your head off." The threat only made Anduin chuckle, which Zathaniel found a bit disturbing. "Fine," he sighed in defeat. "I don't quite know what's '_happened'_ to her. I don't know where she is. I don't even know if she's alive."

"She's strong," Anduin murmured. "I'm sure she's alive."

"I hope so."

"Believing that she's alive...what do you think she could be up to?"

Zathaniel shrugged. "I imagine she's enjoying her duties as a warrior for the Alliance."

* * *

Djinjer gasped for air as Skarvald the Constructor wrapped his muscled arm around her throat, attempting to choke the life from her. She struggled to loosen his grip, but soon gave up as Dalronn the Controller charged her, attempting to pierce her body with a powerful spell. Fearing for her life, Djinjer braced herself against Skarvald and threw her legs up, scratching and clawing at Dalronn's face with the claws of her toes.

Dalronn screamed. He screamed in a way that would have made her laugh, were she not gasping for air. Angered, Skarvald slammed her onto the ground, roaring as he slammed his foot down. His foot barely missed her head as Dorian grabbed her ankles and slid her from beneath him. "I hate my life!" she whined out as she spun over onto her hands and knees.

* * *

"We really ought to get you back home," Zathaniel murmured from his cot.

Anduin sighed loudly. "Why? I'm enjoying my time with you and quite frankly, I think if I'm supposed to be some mighty King one day, I should at least know how to defend myself."

Zathaniel stared as his cousin from across the tent in disbelief. "Are you really going to use that excuse? Are you not a self proclaimed pacifist?"

Anduin sighed, this time out of frustration. "I don't want to hurt people if I don't have to. I'm not going to cause a war because I disagree with someone of another race or faction. Doing such would only prove that I'm a child throwing a tantrum because I can't have everything my way."

Zathaniel chuckled. "At least respond to your father's letters...before he comes after us."

"I believe that may be too late."

Zathaniel quickly sat up, glaring at the woman that stepped into their tent. Her eyes met his before falling upon Anduin. "Why must you make your father worry?"

Anduin sat up, bowing his head. "Jaina..."

"I'm so tired," Djinjer murmured, close to tears. "I just want this to be done."

"We're almost finished," Dorian replied, handing Djinjer a potion. " We have to keep moving, before Ingvar realizes all of his men are dead. Here, this will keep you going."

"Tha' better not be a healin' potion!" Nagmil sincerely seemed offended.

"No," Dorian replied. "It's something for energy. Hardly even a potion, really."

"I could use one, if you have another," Madaleen murmured, running her fingers along the shredded fabric of her robes.

"Let's all have one," Dorian said with a grin. "Bottoms up!"

"I should think this is more comfortable than a cot in a leaking tent," Lady Jaina said as she placed two sets of clothing down upon a desk. "This is my room...at least, when I stay in Dalaran."

"Thanks," Anduin said with a smile as he looked over the clothing. "No offense, Zathaniel, but I am so happy to be in a nice, warm room!"

Jaina and Zathaniel's eyes met once more, but she quickly looked away from him. "I expect you to get some rest, Anduin, and when morning arrives, I'm taking you straight back to your father."

"I understand," though his tone seemed defiant, the look in his eyes said it all: he was more than ready to go home.

Zathaniel grinned. "G'night, kiddo."

"Good night," Anduin replied softly as he began removing his armor.

As soon as Zathaniel stepped out of the room, Jaina joined him. For a moment, she stared at him, then sighed and smiled, "I apologize." When Zathaniel didn't say anything, she beckoned him to follow her. "I feel like a hypocrite," she said softly.

"Is that so?" Zathaniel asked. Zathaniel wasn't really interested in anything Jaina had to say. Since they had first met, she had acted strangely around him and didn't exactly seem welcoming. With such attitude, he felt she was a person he didn't need in his life and had very little interest in. Yet, tonight, he didn't want to seem rude. After all, it would be by word of Jaina that the King would be informed of just what Anduin was up to and who he was with.

Jaina stopped in front of a room, opened a door, and motioned for him to walk in. The room was nothing special, but even he was thankful for the chance at sleeping in a warm bed. "I think one of the silliest things in the world is to hold a grudge. It's just negativity that seems to be passed on from parent to child...and sometimes from a leader to that leader's people. Yet...here I am," she turned around with a smile, "holding a grudge against you."

Zathaniel only lifted a brow in response.

Her eyebrows came together as she shifted uncomfortably. "Surely you know of the feud between our families?"

Zathaniel grinned. "It's hardly a feud," he replied as collapsed into a nearby chair. "My great grandfather left your grandfather's side for a better deal. I don't exactly see how that started a feud."

Jaina seemed insulted. "Thorne was one of the best soldiers, best captains of the Kul Tiras army! He abandoned our people!"

Zathaniel sighed irritably. "So you're still mad because he left for a better life? Need I remind you that you had _many_ other soldiers that could have taken his place? If anyone should be angry, it should be me and my relatives. It was your father that had the Gilneau Family of Kul Tiras slain."

Jaina's lips formed a tight line, but she didn't need to speak to express her anger. Her eyes said it all. She then sighed loudly and rubbed her forehead. "You're right."

"Yep," he said crankily.

"I hate that tone," she said softly. "Every single person in your family speaks with that tone."

Zathaniel glared at her. "Need I remind you, _princess_, that your family keeps the feud going. Not mine."

Jaina glared back at him. "Fine. Consider it over."

Zathaniel shook his head. "I hear from everyone that the Lady Proudmoore is a kind, level headed woman and yet, I seem to bring out the worst in you. I'm not from Kul Tiras. That was never my home and it never will be. The past cannot be changed. I will forgive you the for extermination of my family if you forgive me for the..._betrayal_ of Thorne Gilneau."

Something flickered in her eyes, but it was nothing negative. "It is silly, isn't it?"

Zathaniel only nodded, though he still couldn't justify the slaying of his relatives all because his great grandfather served a different king. "I hope," he said insincerely, "that we can put this behind us and be civil toward one another."

She nodded, "I would like that." For a moment, they stared at one another before she let out a sincere chuckle, "You have Varian and Anduin's eyes." She walked over to the door and stepped out of the room, smiling at him one more time. "Good night, my fellow Kul Tirian."

"Good night, princess." As soon as the door shut and her footsteps disappeared, Zathaniel snorted. His thoughts once more returned to his life before the fall of Gilneas and his heart ached. How badly he longed to return to that life, to see his parents and Liam. Sleepily, Zathaniel cleaned himself up, slipped into something more comfortable and crawled into bed. "I hope you're safe, wherever you are," he whispered, thinking of Djinjer.

* * *

Her body ached worse than it had in a long time. She and her party completed their mission and now, the five of them were sitting together in the tavern, too tired to care about the festivities that were taking place. Djinjer placed her arms on the table, studying the differences between them. Her left arm was so very swollen and even with the slightest movement, pain radiated through her arm. "Never again," she murmured.

"You weren' tha' bad," said Nagmil. "If ya were, I would have left ya."

"None of us were exactly prepared for what we were going up against," said Dorian. "I know I gave you hell in the beginning but...I respected the fact that you kept pushing forward and you were giving it your all. I know professional Shields that would have given up on _us_."

"Shields," Djinjer snorted. "I'm never picking another shield up and I am infinitely grateful to any Shield that protects my rear."

"Here, here!" Dorian chuckled.

"Goodnight, everyone. And..." Djinjer looked over her worn out party. "It was nice meeting each of you."

"May our paths cross again!" Mehkhell said as he lifted his mug. The rest of the party did the same and she couldn't help but smile. With her feet feeling heavier than ever, Djinjer limped up the stairs and to her rented room. She locked the door, stripped to her under garments and whimpered the entire time she slipped into bed.

Morning came too quickly. She dressed and made her way downstairs, only to learn that Dorian, Madaleen, and Mehkhell had already continued with their tasks. Nagmil was still upstairs resting and as for her? Her next assignment was ready: Locate and Destroy the Secret Weapon of Thor Modan.

But Thor Modan was in Grizzly Hills! She wasn't ready for that zone!

* * *

Tank – Djinjer – Worgen – Warrior - F

Healer – Nagmil – Dwarf – Shaman - M

DPS 1 – Dorian – Human – Rogue - M

DPS 2 – Madaleen – Human - Shadow Priest - F

DPS 3 – Mehkhell – Draenei – Hunter - M


	48. Chapter 48

**Note:** _Here you go guys! Sorry for taking so long to get this chapter up, but I had to do a lot of thinking and planning to figure out what the next steps are with this story, with Djinjer and Zathaniel. I will say this, Djinjer: A Worgen's Tale is almost finished, but it isn't the last of Djinjer and her story. We'll be reading something new very soon, which I'm hoping will help inspire me to write a little quicker, like I used to. I'll apologize now for any typos! I sure hope there aren't any, but if they are-forgive me. I've been going through a lot, health wise. -_-;; yay, cancer!  
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* * *

"The worst part about having ticks or fleas...or both...is that when you transform back into your human body, they're still there with no where to really go," Djinjer told her questing partner as she looked over the back of her left calf.

Nagmil chuckled as he continued looking through her hair. "If I were ya, I'd just lop it off."

"Sometimes, I think about it," Djinjer murmured, carefully pinching off another flea. "Make sure you snap them between your finger nails, otherwise they may just jump back on."

"Findin' more than just a few in yer hair," he bellowed in disbelief.

Djinjer sighed heavily. "I can't show up with critters in my hair!" She quickly stood up and stormed over to the river. The water was freezing cold, but she braved the temperatures in hopes to rid herself of the various critters she had picked up in worgen form.

Nagmil, the Dwarf Shaman, had been teamed up with her to see Captain Gryan Stoutmantle. Though she didn't know the way to the Westfall Brigade Encampment, Nagmil claimed that he did. With a tipsy dwarf, the two ended up in just north of the Amberpine Lodge, which was southwest of where they needed to be. It was as she spoke to a High Elf that she became aware of her...infestation. How disgusted that elf looked, when both Nagmil and the elf saw the fattest tick crawl right off of Djinjer's hand and onto the table she was sitting at.

Djinjer removed her underclothes and flung them toward the dwarf, who sat guard over her armor. "Hand me my sword," she called. "And don't get any bright ideas."

Nagmil chuckled heartily, but then suddenly stopped. "What fer?"

"I'm going to cut my hair!" she told him. It had been getting quite long, which resulted in her worgen form being very fluffy. All that fluff being stuck beneath her armor was uncomfortable, anyway.

"Don't ye think it would be better to see someone 'bout it?"

Djinjer groaned. "I just want to get this over with," she said, scrubbing at her scalp.

"I'll see if there's a mage that'll help," he said softly, walking back toward the camp.

Djinjer frowned as she watched the dwarf hobble off. "Help with what?!"

For some strange reason, she was completely comfortable around the dwarf, whom seemed old enough to be her father, if not older than that. Age, he insisted, had nothing to do with power. Djinjer most definitely agreed, but that didn't stop him from constantly calling her a young blood. She dunked her head back into the water, scrubbing furiously.

Djinjer returned to her worgen form, shaking herself beneath the water, only to climb out to the shore, where she shook herself again in an attempt to dry off. For the most part, it worked. But as she returned to her human form and dressed, Djinjer was certain that her pest problem was still there. Just what would a mage do? Burn her fur off without burning her flesh?

"Oi!" Nagmil shouted from behind her. "Got a mage to tel'o'port us!"

Djinjer sighed heavily as she gathered up her belongings and jogged over to the dwarf and High Elf mage. The mage looked her over and shook her head. "Just across the Legerdemain Lounge is a barber shop...I'm fairly confident that the goblin there can take care of your..._problem_."

Djinjer fought back a sigh of shame as the elf created a portal in front of her. She and Nagmil stepped through into a dimly lit room. "Thanks!" Nagmil called through the portal. Djinjer fought for words as she found herself standing in a room, surrounded by mages. "First time?" Nagmil asked, grabbing a hold of her wrist.

"Yes," Djinjer said as he began dragging her down some stairs.

"Then yer goin' to _love_ this city."

As soon as the two stepped out of the building, Djinjer found herself staring at a very intricate golden statue. The statue displayed heroes, but none that Djinjer recognized. Nagmil didn't wait for her amazement to vanish. Instead, he continued dragging her along the streets, which were quite busy. How surprised she was to see members of the Horde and Alliance walking the same roads while paying very little attention to one another.

She gasped as Nagmil yanked her onto the sidewalk, as a Night Elf whizzed by on a flying carpet of all things! She began stuttering, attempting to ask how that was even possible when the dwarf suddenly pulled her into a building that reeked of perfumes and aftershave.

"Welcome, welcome! What can I do for you?" croaked a small voice.

Djinjer was surprised to see the yellow-green skinned goblin smiling up at her. "My friend's having a bit of a fur problem!" Nagmil said loudly, causing Djinjer to blush in embarrassment and horror.

"Fur?" The goblin seemed surprised as she eyed Djinjer, then said, "What are we talking about here? Upper lip problem? Inner thigh area?"

"N-no!" Djinjer stuttered out, yanking her wrist from Nagmil's grasp. "Not like that!" The goblin raised an arch-sculpted brow. "I'm a worgen," she told the small goblin.

The goblin began nodding, "I see," she said, grabbing a hold of Djinjer's hand. "Let me guess, insect problem?" Djinjer blushed deeper, but nodded. "Come, we'll bring you to the back and see what we're dealing with."

The experience was terrible.

Djinjer had been stripped down until she was completely naked. All of her gear, her traveling bag, and everything inside of it was vacuumed and deodorized with a powder that she was told would repel the critters. At the same time, Djinjer was being bathed in a large bathtub, which she was told was used for Tauren who had the same problem from time to time. Knowing that others suffered from the same embarrassing condition made Djinjer feel a little better, but it didn't help all that much, considering she was being given a "flea bath." The chemicals that were used didn't smell very good, but after every flea and tick was gone, Djinjer was given another bath, one that made her smell much like a flower.

Resembling a prune, Djinjer was told to dress in civilian clothes—which she did—and was ushered out into the main part of the building, where she found Nagmil getting his gray beard trimmed. He greeted her, she sat in a chair, and was spun around to face the wall behind her. "See something you like?" the goblin asked.

"Kizi, treat that girl right!" Nagmil said with a laugh as he winked at the other female goblin.

The goblin, Kizi, smiled at Nagmil, then flashed Djinjer a smile as well. "Something short? I could tell from your armor that you're a warrior. Paladin armor always seems to shine a bit more. I think that's because of their magic, though."

Djinjer cleared her throat. "Short's fine. I just don't want to have one of those baths again any time soon."

"You shouldn't need one like that for a long time," said Kizi. "As for your hair..." she chewed her lip for a moment as she crossed her arms over her tiny chest. "Hm," the goblin circled her three times before she snapped her fingers. "I got it! I've worked on three worgen already and you know what I've learned? Length," she turned Djinjer's chair to face a mirror, "determines fuzziness, something that no warrior wants to worry about." A nearly sinister smile crossed the goblin's face. "Are you ready?

With a deep breath, Djinjer nodded.

The goblin clipped and snipped here and there, combed it in a style, and repeated the process until Djinjer was left with _very_ short hair. Djinjer ran a hand through her hair, or what was left of it. For the most part, it felt as though she had been buzzed. The longest part of her hair was on the very top with slightly long bangs. Djinjer grinned at her reflection and the goblin clapped her hands and smiled. "Do you like it, then?"

"I sure do!" Djinjer continued to admire the haircut. It was like a more stylish, more feminine military issued haircut for men...and she _adored _it.

"I sure do hope your husband likes it, as well!"

"Husband?" Djinjer's brows shot up as she stared at the goblin in confusion.

"You have that mark on the back of your neck. Every person I've seen with that mark on their neck is married to a worgen."

"Oh," Djinjer rubbed the back of her neck, taking note in Nagmil's questioning gaze. "I forgot about it. It's nothing like that, though." The goblin nodded again, removing the cape that had been placed around her shoulders. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," she chirped. "Nagmil covered you."

"Aw," Djinjer smiled at the dwarf. "You didn't have to do that."

He smiled back and chuckled. "My treat!"

With her new hair cut and his beard trimmed and groomed, the duo made their way to Dalaran's landing. How lucky they were that the flightmaster, Aludane Whitecloud, sent them on their way to the Westfall Brigade Encampment.

The Westfall Brigade Encampment was more than a little unimpressive. There two wooden towers that hardly looked stable and tents littered the entire camp. They landed not far from only three outhouses; the smell was hardly bearable. She murmured her thanks to the flightmaster, as did Nagmil. Nagmil hurried over to a man with gray hair. He and two others were heavily geared and standing around a table. Djinjer didn't need to ask who the three were.

"Nagmil Longbrew!" the gray haired man bellowed out. The two quickly shook each other's hands. "What are you doing in these parts?"

Still softly chuckling, Nagmil motioned to Djinjer and said, "We two are at yer service! Vice Admiral Keller sent us!"

"Did he now? I knew he was sending someone, but I didn't realize it would be you. Well, I'm glad you are here to help out again. We could use all the help we can get. Longbrew, if you perform the way you did back in Westfall with the People's Militia, we have a chance. These are dire times, old friend." The Captain's eyes met hers. "And who do we have here?"

Djinjer cleared her throat, but never had a chance to reply. "Djinjer Foreman!" Nagmil announced with what seemed like pride. "She's a good, strong warrior. Glad to have her by my side!"

"Good, good," said the Captain. He held his hand out to Djinjer and gladly, she shook it. "I am Captain Gryan Stoutmantle and these two are Sergeant Daelian and Sergeant Tyric. We were beginning to think that Valgarde wouldn't send help."

"Never," Nagmil rumbled out as he approached the table. "You know me, I never mean to get straight to business, but..."

The captain chuckled. "Indeed, old friend. Time is slipping by and we must hurry." Djinjer ignored the two sergeants as she approached the table and began looking over the map. The captain pushed tapped the map at Thor Modan. "Thor Modan is the ancient home of the Iron Dwarves. Much of its interior is in ruins. The dwarves have been working nonstop to repair the constant damage that is being done by an army of nature giants, who constantly barrage the area with huge boulders and entire trees that have been ripped from the ground. As a result, the Iron Dwarves are defending their territory by sending out powerful stone golems to engage the marauding Earthen. Until recently, I've seen little reason to interfere."

"What's been happening recently?" Djinjer asked.

"The dwarves have been attacking our caravans, destroying our supplies, and stealing our tools. Now, normally, this type of behavior wouldn't be surprising from an enemy, but we believe that they may have someone inside of our camp."

"That's a major accusation, Cap'n. What makes you certain?"Nagmil scratched at his balding head.

Captain Stoutmantle stroked his beard for a moment, then quietly replied, "The Iron dwarves _never_ attack until we send out for a caravan. As you can see, we don't have many soldiers here, but we've done all that we can. We've set up spies and we've interrogated all of our soldiers. If there is a comrade of the Iron Dwarves within this camp...then I must know."

"What do you recommend?" Djinjer asked.

The captain cleared his throat. "Our best rogue, Balfour Blackblade, has told us of a room, deep inside the ruins of Thor Modan. In fact, it's so deep inside Thor Modan that it hasn't been touched by the Earthen's assault. We believe that the traitor can be found there. If not, then someone or something important is being kept behind those doors. Four elite guard surround this room at all times."

Djinjer glanced around and lowered her voice. "Is this Balfour to be trusted? What if he's the snitch?"

"He isn't," the captain said firmly. "He has reported that a figure of human size is working with the dwarves. I want the two of you to make your way into Thor Modan. Kill all who oppose you and of course, watch out for the Earthen. Lately, they don't seem to care whose side you are on. Discover what's behind those doors and be certain to bring the human back...alive."

"And if we can't?" The mission already sounded nearly impossible.

"Then bring back his head. In due time, someone may recognize the face. Do what you can, warrior, but don't die in the process."

"What are the odds of you getting in there safely?" Djinjer whispered.

Nagmil grumbled softly, "What makes you think I can get in there safely?!"

"Well," Djinjer shrugged. "They're dwarves, aren't they? Won't they be okay with you?"

"They're _Iron Dwarves!_"

A moment of silence passed before Djinjer murmured, "You all look the same to me."

Nagmil shot her a glare. "That is down right racist, that is!"

"_Excuse me_!" she snarled, "I've only lived my entire life locked behind the walls of Gilneas, away from all the other races in the world!"

"Gilneas wasn't always locked away," Nagmil said with a snort. "I'm sure it had books!"

Another moment of silence passed. "I was taught to read and to farm...not much else," she murmured.

Nagmil's shoulders tensed up, then he sighed. "Look, let's focus," he whispered in a softer tone. "Fact is, they'll try to kill me just like they'll try to kill you. It's like the Cap'n said...take 'em all down."

Djinjer took a deep breath and quietly removed her sword from its sheath. "You've got my back, right?"

"Like you have to ask."

"Right then," she said with a sigh. "Let's get going." Djinjer quickly looked around them for enemies. With the coast mainly clear, they dashed to the nearest building. The duo maneuvered around the backside of a few buildings until they came upon a small bundle of ruins.

"Let the Light and Mother Nature be on our side," Nagmil whispered. "Wait for it," he said. "After that group turns the corner...get hairy, girl." Djinjer grinned as she silently transformed into her worgen body. She gripped her sword in her large hands and rose up onto her tiptoes. "_Now!_"

As soon as Djinjer stood, the two guards noticed her and braced themselves as she charged them. While they may have looked a bit like normal dwarves, they sure didn't feel like them. Djinjer's weapon hardly seemed to affect their rock like skin, but that only made Djinjer focus and use more of her strength. The two guards took notice of Nagmil, whom attack from afar. She could tell they wanted to attack the Ironforge Dwarf, but she kept them engaged and refused to allow either of them to slip by her.

Djinjer grunted as she shoved her foot into one of the dwarves, sending him crashing into a third, patrol dwarf. Another yell caught her attention as a fourth joined the fight. Djinjer immediately spun to her right, kicking that dwarf as well. "Haaa!" another shouted, to which she turned to and kicked with all of her might.

Djinjer literally came to a stop as she gasped at the sight of Nagmil skidding along the dirt path. Panic seeping in, Djinjer quickly looked over the dwarves that she had been in combat with. All four were there, appearing stunned that she had accidentally attacked her own comrade.

"We don't look that much alike!" Nagmil shouted as he slowly rolled onto his side.

The iron dwarf nearest her pointed and laughed heartily and immediately, the other three joined in. Irritated with her mistake, Djinjer gripped her weapon and with all of her strength, swung at the nearest dwarf. Satisfaction filled her as his body crumbled to the ground. This enraged the remaining dwarves and once more, they attacked again...with Nagmil making certain to stay far from her.

Each dwarf was occasionally struck by lightning or fire and always finished off by her hand. She and her dwarf companion made a good team and easily worked around one another...except for _this_ time. He couldn't blame her, could he? They were the same size and build...

Djinjer and Nagmil quickly made their way into the dilapidated hall, eager to make their way into the heart of Thor Modan.

"Amazing," Nagmil murmured as they made their way deeper into the city. "It doesn't look much different from Ironforge."

"I agree," Djinjer murmured, pressing her back against the wall. "I wonder why they fight against us instead of with us."

She looked at Nagmil, receiving a shrug in reply. "Never had much use for books or about cousin dwarves."

Djinjer gave him a toothy grin, then carefully peered around the wall. Her heart immediately dropped into her stomach. "This is going to be hell," she whispered, gripping the wall as the entire city rumbled loudly.

"What the bloody hell was that?!" Nagmil snarled, seeming very alarmed.

"Take a guess what's in that hall."

With a glare, he grumbled out, "I don't like guessing." Nagmil simply peeked his head out into the hallway and immediately pulled back. With a huff, he grinned up at her. "We'll have our work cut out for us. Looks like fun, don' ya say?"

Djinjer snorted. "If you say so, old man."

Nagmil quickly grabbed up an abandoned Iron Dwarf bracer and whistled as though he were calling a dog. "Fetch, girl, fetch!"

"You'll pay for that," Djinjer said half-threateningly. With a slight grin at one another, Djinjer rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath. "By the gods, let's hope we don't get smashed by a tree or boulder."

"Or killed by an angry shaman!"

Djinjer stepped into the hallway, gripping her weapon firmly. The nearest dwarves didn't seem to notice her, as they were focused on their work; picking at rocks, replacing stones, attempting to remove trees from the walkways or fixing the broken roads.

She took a deep, snarling breath and released a low, humming howl. For the most part, she was ignored, except by two dwarves near her. Both seemed more outraged by her disturbing their work rather than her being there. With a bark, Djinjer charged to the nearest dwarf, who was just pelted by a smoldering ball of fire. She attacked this working dwarf, slashing and stabbing at him until the two joined in. Since her time being a "shield," in Utgarde Keep, Djinjer found she had a natural knack at keeping the attention of more than one enemy.

In fact, she couldn't help but a feel a little over confident, due to the sincere lack of attention the other dwarves were paying her. One even glanced at her and continued his work, as if he couldn't care any less. She killed that dwarf too easily and turned her tirade on the next bunch.

"Look out!" Nagmil shouted as he yanked Djinjer backward by her belt. A boulder slammed down on the three dwarves in front of her, shattering into violent shower of shrapnel. She shook her entire body, sneezing twice as Nagmil coughed loudly. "We better get double the gold for this!"

"Doubtful," Djinjer said, storming into the cloud of smoke. Just as she thought, the closest dwarves were already making their way to the remains of the boulder to remove it. The look in their stoney eyes when they saw her! How delicious! It made her want to attack them with her very teeth. With something far more primal rushing through her veins, Djinjer couldn't keep herself from attacking in a frenzy. She growled and barked as she slammed her sword against them, beheading, slicing, dismembering them. She moved onto the next as though it were nothing, even ignoring Nagmil's yells. He was being attacked, though at this moment, she really didn't care.

There was something about this frenzy that released _everything_ from her; any anger she felt, or bitterness and depression...even loneliness. Killing relaxed her. Killing made her happy. Djinjer hardly even flinched as a tree slammed down not five feet from her. "Across the bridge!" Nagmil shouted from behind her. Acknowledging the sentence he shouted at her immediately brought her back to her senses. "Thanks for all tha' help back there!" he shouted as he crossed the bridge beside her. "Real good help you are."

Though some guilt made its way into her heart, Djinjer didn't feel _too_ bad. "You knew you could handle it!" she shouted back over the rumbling from above. Nagmil answered her by sending a chain of lightning through several dwarves, which she then attacked.

"Promise me," he shouted over the crackling of his spell.

"Promise you what?" she asked, slamming her sword through a dwarf's chest.

"Don't go feral with me."


	49. Chapter 49

**Note: **_I apologize for how long this took...but I'm happy with the result. If there are any mistakes, I apologize for them, but I don't have time to go over the chapter and look for them. I'm trying to post this before I have to leave for work :P I just want the damn thing out already, ya know? The next chapter will be the very last. ARE YOU PREPARED?!  
_

* * *

The distant thundering rumbled all throughout the halls of Thor Modan, no matter where the duo went. Djinjer and Nagmil had just defeated the elite guard outside of their designated location and were left hesitant and breathless.

Djinjer looked over at Nagmil, watching the dwarf gasp for air. Both of them were covered in sweat. The deeper they got into Thor Modan, the higher the temperature rose and boy, was it stifling. "The bright side is," he murmured, "Ya don't stink. Ya don't smell like a ruddy awful dog."

"Thanks," she chirped, straightening her back. She groaned as it popped in several places. "Are we ready for this?"

"No," he murmured. "But it's now or never." He jerked his head in an upward motion, "Looks like they may be getting through the ceiling soon."

Djinjer looked up at the crumbling ceiling, spotting several small beams of light. "How do they do that," she murmured rhetorically.

"It's gotta be easy for 'em, bein' Earthen and all."

Djinjer shook her head. "Let's just do this, before we both melt or get stuck beneath the rubble."

Nagmil grunted as he pushed himself off of the wall and made his way to the double doors. "One," he murmured.

"Two," she continued.

"Three." Nagmil shoved the doors open, revealing a dark room illuminated only by blue candles. Iron Dwarves were carved into the walls, but they almost appeared to be in pain, as if they were trying to escape the wall somehow. In the center of the room, there sat a large map table with miniatures here and there, locating both Horde and Alliance camps. Sitting behind the table, on a throne of cobalt, was a shrouded figure that Djinjer knew they were looking for. Her stomach tightened as she saw several Dwarven heads impaled upon the peaks of the throne.

She quickly gripped her weapon and stepped out in front of Nagmil. "Who are you and why are you harassing the good people of the Westfall Encampment?" The figure didn't reply. He didn't move. He didn't even flinch. Djinjer glared at him through the darkness of the room. It didn't even appear he was breathing.

"The lady asked you a question!" Nagmil growled out, his knuckles popping as he gripped a weapon and a totem in each fist.

Suddenly, the figure shifted, resting his face against his fist. "And you expect me to answer? Like a gentleman?" Her fur stood up as she heard the baritone Gilnean accent. Immediately, she began worrying that she—as a fellow Gilnean—would be held responsible for this man's actions. Yet, Djinjer couldn't help but notice that there was something off about him. Despite the different scents, she could still pinpoint his and he just didn't smell _right_.

"You filthy bastard," Nagmil snarled, throwing the totem down onto the floor. "We'll show you."

The figure began laughing, his voice echoing inhumanely. "Go ahead. Attack me. I dare you."

Djinjer quickly glanced at Nagmil, pleased to find a confused look upon his face. At least she knew she wasn't the only one baffled by this man's behavior. Seeming to sense their confusion, the man shifted on his throne once more. "I killed their leader," he murmured, motioning to the Dwarven wall decorations. "It wasn't hard, really. They're so focused on stopping the attacks from the Earthen and rebuilding this waste that they hadn't noticed me waltz right in."

"That doesn't answer my question," Djinjer growled out.

The figure lurched forward, almost as if he were going to attack. Instead, he leaned over the table and grinned, "I have felt lost since the day the worgen attacked. What purpose was there to my life? I found a purpose soon after arriving in Stormwind City. I needed to become a Death Knight. I needed to feel that power. I came to Northrend in hopes of finding my answer. Instead, I was met with disappointment. Still, I am no Death Knight. I am _better_ than that! You ask me why do I attack the Alliance? What you do not know is that I attack the Horde as well. And why? Why?! Because I intend to destroy both of them!"

Nagmil suddenly chuckled, "By stealing their supplies?!"

Djinjer shifted her position so that she stood more in front of Nagmil. She could tell Nagmil's response infuriated the man. "Is that truly the only reason you two are here?"

"Yes," Nagmil blurted out, taking a relaxed position behind her. "It's quite bothersome that the supplies aren't reachin' 'em. Ya got sick and wounded people there."

"You mean to tell me that I have ships full of dwarves...sailing to all of the main Horde and Alliance cities, with vats full of plague carriers and you're here over stolen supplies?"

"What?!" Djinjer roared.

The man cackled. "That's right, little wolf! A plague shall run rampant among the world! It can infect _anything_ and _anyone_. And do you know how I managed to get the dwarves to do it? I have learned how to control them! I have learned how to absorb the power of my enemies! I am unstoppable! When the world begins to die, I will come out victorious and all who wish to live must serve under _me._"

An immense fear ran through Djinjer. If they couldn't get out of this alive, there would be no one to stop him! Djinjer let out another roar, one that echoed through the room. She charged into the hooded figure, but he dodged her far too easily, as if knowing her exact moves. Spinning around, Djinjer slammed the hilt of her weapon into his face just as a ball of lightning slammed into his back.

He didn't grunt.

He didn't groan.

He laughed.

Djinjer stomped her foot onto the stone floor with such force that it cracked and buckled beneath the two of them. He stumbled, but immediately regained his composure. She gasped as he swung his fist at her. At first, she thought he had missed, but then a searing pain ran through her body. With a quick glance at her abdomen, she found that he somehow sliced through her armor!

Green light engulfed her and she knew that Nagmil had begun to heal her. Too distracted, Djinjer received a fist to her face, but she had been hit harder than that before! She snarled as she launched herself at him again. Once more, he dodged, but she expected that this time. She swung around, slicing dangerously close to his throat. She wouldn't count it as a miss, considering the robe he hid beneath was now lying upon the floor.

His flesh ranged from pale white, to green and gray. Pieces of flesh were sewn here and there. Djinjer couldn't help but notice the faces that had been attached to his body. Their faces were frozen in pain and agony, with a soft purple light illuminating from their orifices. The face on the left side of his face let out a horrific scream as a beam of light shot out of its mouth. Djinjer yelped as she barely missed it.

"Are you alright?!" Nagmil shouted.

"Fine, fine!"

The man cackled again. Djinjer looked up at his disfigured face and quickly got back to her feet. Their engaged in combat again with Nagmil throwing out heals here and there and the occasional attack. Were he not there to support her, she would have already lost this battle. IT didn't help that no matter how quickly she attacked, she rarely got in a hit. He blocked her blade with his bladed fist weapon and then another face screamed. Djinjer was suddenly slammed against the wall and her ears were ringing.

She shook her head and grunted as she got back to her feet. The man suddenly rose into the air, cackling as dark green light engulfed his hand. "How about we make this fun?"

Djinjer gasp as she launched herself away from the wall. The green ball slammed into the very spot she had been in and immediately, the stone wall began to hiss and smoke. Djinjer dodged another orb and finally, she growled and ran toward him. Using the map table as a stepping stool, she jumped into the air and slammed into him. As they crashed upon the floor, Djinjer shoved her blade through the face on his stomach.

He howled in agony but the face on the upper part of his left body screamed again and this time, she didn't dodge the beam of light it shot from its mouth. Djinjer yelped as it threw her, but not nearly with the same force as the face on his stomach. The man growled as Djinjer desperately tried to clear her head. He shouted in pain as something collided with him and from the sounds of it, Nagmil was now attacking him with everything he had.

Djinjer shook her head again and blinked several times as she rolled onto her stomach. Slowly, she got back to her feet and looked around. "My sword!"

"It's part of the wall, now!" Nagmil snarled, throwing a very specific totem down. Djinjer knew the one.

Just as the large fire elemental sprung to life, Djinjer spotted her sword. Like the wall, it was hissing and smoking...and melting into the wall. She huffed irritably and turned her attention to the elemental, which the man was trying desperately to avoid. "That's it," Djinjer murmured. "We have to keep killing the faces. He's some sort of undead creature, Nagmil. Look at him. He's not bleeding, but his flesh _is_ rotting."

Djinjer extended her claws and revealed her teeth, knowing full well that she now had to attack him with what she had. She took one step forward then immediately stopped, because what she saw was more horrific than she'd ever like to admit. The man turned, but only slightly. He yanked off his fist weapon and held his hand out, as if he were going to catch something. Upon his palm was a mouth that opened and _inhaled_ the fire elemental. His entire arm shook and with a roar, he threw his head back and screamed as his entire body was engulfed in flames that didn't seem to harm him.

"Son of a-"

The man launched a large fireball back at Nagmil, whom was sent soaring back into the hallway.

Djinjer did the only thing she could do: she charged him. Fighting without a weapon was always a frightening thing, because it always brought her that much closer to her feral side. As soon as she swiped at him, Djinjer knew that this fight had become much more difficult, now that he had the power of a fire elemental. His flesh was hot, too hot for her to want to touch.

"You think you can defeat me?!" he roared. "You're only getting a small taste of what I can do! Imagine, when I absorb the power of every mage, every warlock, ever magical being in this dying planet!"

Djinjer yelped as he latched onto her breastplate. "I'll roast you alive, mongrel!"

Djinjer began whimpering as an unbearable heat began surrounding her torso and slowly began making its way to her other plate pieces of gear. She clawed at his burning hand until her fur burned off and her clawed snapped. In sheer agony, Djinjer roared. She ignored the pain as she began swatting at his face, pulling at the twisted flesh around his mouth and then finally sunk her thumb into his right eye.

He shouted in anger and pain and with his other hand, he grabbed a hole of Djinjer's throat. He squeezed for a moment before he finally threw her against the wall. "I won't kill you," he snarled. Djinjer whimpered as she scurried away from him. "I'll disfigure you. I'll infect you and send you back to everyone you know and love. You'll be my greatest weapon."

"Think again!" Nagmil shouted.

Djinjer had to cover her ears as the man was suddenly pelted with bullets. Even as his body was being shot apart, he laughed and yet somehow managed to heal himself. The face on his upper torso screamed, but not before being shot and destroyed. Only then did the man scream. "You can't kill me!" he snarled as something changed. His body began _absorbing_ the bullets.

However, this time, she saw just what happened. As soon as he used his power, something inside the cobalt throne lit up. And as he healed himself, it did it again. "The throne!" Djinjer shouted, keeping herself low to the floor as she made her way over to Nagmil. "The throne! Aim for the throne!"

Nagmil shifted his aim of the mechanical contraption that he was in and just as she thought, as soon as he began firing at the throne, the main panicked. "Stop it!" he shouted, firing different spells at Nagmil. Djinjer charged him again, ignoring the searing pain she felt as she attacked him. She dug at throat with her bloody fingers and latched down onto his hand with her sharp teeth. How badly she wanted to scream and get away from him! It burned! It burned her entire body!

Once more, Djinjer was thrown away from him. He began screaming as he clenched his head. The deep grooves that had been sewn together were suddenly pulling apart and light was pouring out of his body here and there. The entire room began shaking, if not the entire area.

"That's our queue!" Nagmil shouted. In agony, she somehow managed to hurry her way to Nagmil. He moved the mechanical bird with oddly bolted on weapons and shouted, "You have to get in!"

Djinjer threw out the gnome skeleton that was in the back seat, but try as she may, she just couldn't fit. "It won't work!" Djinjer shouted.

"We have to get out of here!" All of Thor Modan was collapsing! Djinjer glanced back at the man, whose body was morphing and shifting grotesquely. "Hold onto its feet!" he shouted, aiming the bird toward the ceiling. "Now!" he shouted. "We don't have much longer!"

"Go without me!" she shouted, certain that she wouldn't live through this anyway.

Nagmil cursed as he fired the one rocket that was equipped on the mechanical bird's belly. It slammed into the ceiling, revealing a way out. Her heart broke as the bird's engine's suddenly whirred to life and it hovered a few feet off of the ground. "I'm taking you whether you like it or not!"

Djinjer gasped as the bird's metal feet grabbed her arms and lifted off. They had barely made it through the hole in the ceiling whenever a bright light exploded from the ground, approximately where the Gilnean man had been. To Djinjer's horror, the entire land over Thor Modan crackled. The explosion was nearly deafening, even from where they were. It jerked the mechanical bird, which Nagmil corrected. "You alright down there?"

"Yes," she called back, tears filling her eyes. The pain was nearly too much to bare. "What about you?" With how long it took him to reply, Djinjer immediately became worried. "Nagmil?"

"...No."

"What?!" she screeched.

"Tha' green orb...it hit me, Djinjer. I can't heal it. I could heal everything else, but I can't heal this."

"...Are your bleeding?"

"...Not as bad as I thought I would be," he chuckled.

Djinjer sighed heavily as she stretched her arms a bit, holding onto the ankles of the mechanical bird. "The camp is right over there," she called. "Maybe someone can help you there."

Nagmil didn't reply.

"You better not have died on me," she called out, attempting to be funny. "Nagmil?" When he didn't reply, Djinjer's heart began pounding. "Nagmil?!" Still, there was no reply. As a liquid made itself onto Djinjer's left hand, fear engulfed her. "Nagmil, you wake up, you old bastard! Nagmil!" she screeched. She continued shouting his name as his blood seeped down the bird's leg and onto her hand. "Nagmil!"

Djinjer blinked back her tears as she looked at the feet of the bird. She had hoped that there was some way to free herself, but what would she do even if she could? Djinjer looked at the ground...and then slowly, she looked up at the mountains that they were quickly approaching. "Nagmil..."

It happened all too quickly. The right wing of the bird clipped a few trees and then smashed apart at the mountain. The flying contraption turned, only in time to smash into the next mountain. Djinjer screamed in complete horror as the birds feet let go of her and she was sent soaring into the air. Things snapped and broke as she landed hard upon the ground, bouncing and rolling down the carved hill. She came to a sliding stop at the very bottom. Her vision was blurred...her ears were ringing...she didn't feel anything because the pain was too much. Djinjer coughed heavily; blood spurting from her mouth. She refused to die, but it certainly seemed like she would. Though she tried hard to clear her vision, she just couldn't. Everything was growing dim, even if her eyes were open.

The worst part about it, she couldn't help but think, was that she wouldn't be able to warn anyone about the plague ships. She may have completed her mission...but she still failed. She wondered...what would Zathaniel think? Would he even find out about her death? Would anyone come for them or would they just be torn apart by animals?

At least the animals would get a good meal out of her...

As it became harder for Djinjer to breathe, she couldn't help but think about her last night with Zathaniel, how he kissed her and held her so lovingly. Dying wasn't so bad as long as she could go while thinking of him. Djinjer exhaled her final breath and suddenly, everything...was dark.


	50. Chapter 50 - Final Chapter

**Note:**_ Sorry for how long this chapter took to post. I actually rewrote it several times and finally settled on this version of the ending. I've put line breaks between each break in the story and I really hope you all enjoy it. It wasn't easy ending my fic, especially after so long. See the bottom of the chapter for a few more notes.  
_

* * *

Knock, knock.

Zathaniel rolled over in bed, pulling the blankets over his head.

Knock, knock.

He sighed heavily, hoping the person would get the message and go away.

The door of his bedroom slowly creaked open, "Zathaniel?" Anduin waited for a moment and then, as usual, made his way into his room. He'd stand at the foot of the bed and try to wake him twice before making his way to the side, forcibly waking Zathaniel. Only, Zathaniel had become used to this and now woke before Anduin even made it to the door. "Zathaniel?"

"What?" Zathaniel groaned out.

"Father is concerned about you. Should we call for a physician, a priest...or an alchemist, perhaps?"

Zathaniel sighed heavily. "Why can't you two just let me be?"

"Because we care, even if father doesn't show it." When Zathaniel didn't reply, Anduin continued. "Father said while it's fine to grieve, you shouldn't do it alone, nor should you stay in bed all day. Father said, if you don't get out of bed today, he's going to force you."

Zathaniel rolled onto his back and sighed heavily. Already, tears began stinging his eyes and his heart felt so heavy it nauseated him. "Three days is hardly enough time to get over something like that."

Anduin was quiet for a while before he asked, "Have you thought that maybe father is the right person to talk to about it?"

"Why?" he asked, staring up at the ceiling, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

"Zathaniel, get out of bed," Varian said in passing. "Don't make me come get you."

Zathaniel grinned when he heard Anduin quickly walk back to the door, "And he means it. He wants you dressed and in the throne room immediately." When his door shut, Zathaniel sighed heavily and sat up. He stomach groaned and painfully spasmed, informing him that it was not happy with his decision to not eat anything in those three days.

He slowly slipped out of bed, slowly dressed, and made his way to the throne room. There, his cousins looked up at him. Though Anduin was dressed in formal attire, his father hardly looked appropriate enough to be in the throne room. "That won't do," Varian said. "Benjamin, see to it that Zathaniel dresses for training."

* * *

"Djinjer!" the voice sounded distant and strangely familiar. "Djinjer!" Djinjer's eyes snapped open. No one needed to tell her where she was. She instantly knew, from the smell of nature, the way the trees looked, the sound of the water nearby. "Djinjer!" another voiced called out. This time, the voice was closer and from the sounds of it, someone was making their way toward her. "Do you not hear your mother calling for you?!"

Djinjer scrambled to her bare feet and looked at her father. In the distance, she could see the tiny little home that she lived in all of her life and beside it were the fields that her family and others worked so carefully upon. "What are you doing out here? Day dreaming again?"

"We don't have time for day dreaming," she repeated from memory.

"You're bloody right we don't," her father said, shaking his head. He pulled the red handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his sweating forehead. "Now hurry up, girl, before it's me getting yelled at."

Djinjer stared at her father in a daze. How could this be? How in the world was she back in Gilneas? Was this all a dream? Djinjer pinched herself as hard as she could and immediately, her heart quivered in absolute terror. "It isn't a dream."

"Of course it isn't," her father sighed in that way he always did when he was frustrated. "Will you stop being weird and go home? Your mother needs your help!"

Djinjer nearly tackled her father, hugging him as tightly as she could. She wanted to lift him into the air, but as if needing to confirm that she could, Djinjer looked at her arms. There was hardly any muscle definition and there were absolutely no scars that she could see. "Djinjer?" he said in a softer, more concerned tone. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, poppa," she murmured and with a smile, she kissed his cheek and hurried home. Djinjer didn't know what she expected when she walked into her house, but she was almost overwhelmed by the nostalgia. _Everything_ was the same. The way her house smelled, the way it looked, the way it sounded when she walked upon the old wooden floor. Djinjer stared at her mother on all fours, scrubbing away at the floor.

"There you are," she said breathlessly. "I was beginning to worry you drowned!"

Djinjer smiled and laughed. "You always worried about that."

"I still do," she sighed. "My sister drowned when she was little, or did you forget?"

"I didn't," Djinjer said, but for a moment, she realized that she _had_ forgotten. "This can't be real," she said softly to herself.

"What can't?" When Djinjer shook her head and continued looking around the house at the little details that she _had_ forgotten about, her mother dropped the scrubbing brush into her bucket and stood up. "What's wrong, baby girl?" she quickly dried her hands upon her apron and walked over, placing a warm and soft hand upon her forehead. "You don't seem ill."

"I just..." Djinjer sighed and nearly collapsed into her mother's arms. Tears blurred her vision. "I had a horrible nightmare, momma. The world was breaking apart and you had all died...and I was a worgen."

"A what? A w-worgen?" her mother burst into a fit of chuckles, "Baby girl, there's no such thing as a worgen! That's just an old bedtime story we parents tell to keep our naughty children in line." Her mother sighed softly and stroked Djinjer's back. "I guess I told that story too often, then again, you were exceptionally naughty. You still are, now that I think about it, running off with that girl and being inappropriate."

Djinjer's heart fluttered as she looked at her mother. "Kimberly?"

"Yes, Kimberly. You know what everyone is saying, since you two always sneak off together? It doesn't help that you're always wearing these disgusting overalls. If you would dress like a young lady and stop fighting with the boys, maybe people would stop assuming the worst."

"Momma," Djinjer was about to tell her that she didn't feel that way about Kimberly, but now that everything was a dream...what _did_ she feel? Djinjer blushed when she thought back to the night with Zathaniel. "The prince has a cousin, doesn't he?"

Her mother's eyes got wide and then, with a blush, she began giggling. "I knew you had a love secret, I just didn't realize..."

"Don't tell poppa," she groaned out. "I..." she shook her head. "What did you need me for anyway?"

"Oh!" she grabbed her small, dingy purse and opened it. She counted the coins inside and shut it with a snap. "Here's enough money to replace dinner. Don't tell your father, but I had another spell and dropped dinner on the floor."

Djinjer's stomach suddenly grew uneasy. How could she forget about the spells her mother was having before the Cataclysm? "What do we need?"

"Bread, some cream, as many tomatoes as you can buy, bell peppers, onions, and a nice hunk of beef...and I don't mean the prince's cousin."

Djinjer turned scarlet, "Oh, _mum_, that's not even funny."

Her mother howled with laughter as she nearly ran out of the house. She traveled the same roads that she never realized that she had missed and when she entered the busy, bustling town, Djinjer nearly burst into tears. It wasn't the dark, dank city that she had become accustomed to. It was the Gilneas she _knew_ and adored with all of her heart. "How is this happening," she asked. Not wanting to dwell on a good thing, Djinjer made her way into the market. She bought everything that was needed, but as she walked out of the butcher shop, she froze. Liam walked past her with a lady on each arm. He laughed and flashed each of them with a dazzling smile, not even glancing in her direction.

But that meant...

There he was, standing adjacent from her in all his glory. He was leaning over Kimberly, of all people; their lips were close. As if sensing her, he slowly turned his eyes until he met hers. Kimberly looked in the same direction. Djinjer didn't know what she expected to feel, but it wasn't anger, nor was it love, though Kimberly was clearly horrified. Djinjer looked back at Zathaniel and smiled shyly as she walked away from the butcher's shop.

* * *

Zathaniel grunted as his feet were swept from underneath him. He slammed into the floor and panted. "I didn't see that coming."

"I know you didn't," Varian panted and held his hand out to him. "Feeling better yet?"

Zathaniel took his cousin's hand and got to his feet. "Well, I'm beginning to bruise, I ache everywhere, but...this is sort of helping."

"Come. I want to talk to you."

Zathaniel, like Varian, accepted a towel from the servant. They walked for a while before ending up in the City Cemetery. There, Varian and Zathaniel stopped at a beautiful grave site. A beautifully carved lion sat upon a grand tomb, covered in wreaths, flowers, and perfectly groomed vines. "This is where my wife rests, Zathaniel. I cannot tell you that time heals all wounds, because it doesn't. But each day, her absence from my life hurts a little less." He paused for a moment then smiled, "No matter when I come here, there are always fresh flowers. It warms my heart to know that it is not just me that misses her."

"I understand what you're trying to do and I know this isn't easy for you, so I thank you but I don't want to talk about it. I thought the purpose of sparring was to get my mind off of her death."

Varian grinned, "It was mainly to loosen you up. Look, I'm not good at this comforting thing, but I promise you, even if we have to go look for her ourselves, we'll find her body and we'll put her to rest beside my own wife."

Zathaniel looked away. He clenched the towel in his hands and focused on breathing. "I don't know if I want to find her."

"I understand," Varian murmured.

"Who steals a body anyway?" Zathaniel asked, tears glossing his eyes.

* * *

Knock, knock, knock.

"Could you get the door?"

"Sure, mum," Djinjer said softly. She raced downstairs and opened the door just as their guest began knocking again. Djinjer blinked several times as she looked at Kimberly, "What's wrong?" She seemed distressed.

"I...was wondering if you and I could talk somewhere?"

"Sure," Djinjer slipped on her sandals and shut the door behind her. "And off we go," she said with a smile. Kimberly smiled back, but it was a smile of politeness. Eager to return to her family, Djinjer decided to get straight to the point."Is this about your engagement?"

Immediately, Kimberly froze. "H-how did you know?"

Djinjer lowered her voice and whispered, "I'm psychic."

"Oh, hush!" Kimberly sighed loudly, "How did you know?"

"It's not exactly surprising. Your family has been trying to marry you off for a while. I'm surprised they didn't try to send you off to the prince!"

"That's not fair," Kimberly frowned. "B-but yes, I am engaged and he's quite charming."

"Do you love him?" Djinjer asked, remembering that the two didn't exactly have a great marriage.

"Well..." her lips pursed and she tilted her head up, "I will, one day."

"That's not good enough," Djinjer said, shaking her head. "If you don't love him, don't marry him. It's as simple as that. Neither of you deserve the heart ache that will bring."

Kimberly sighed again, "It's not that simple. I don't exactly have a say in who I marry. You should know that."

"What I know is that you've always had an interest in men, not just women." Kimberly blushed crimson. "And I know you have your eyes on someone other than your fiance. I know that it's him that you prefer out of the three of us."

"How can you possibly know these things?"

Djinjer shrugged. "I'm observant. Besides...you hold back when you kiss me and you failed to kiss your fiance half as good as you kiss me...either you're a terrible kisser or your heart belongs to someone else. Honestly, I just want the best for you."

Kimberly finally hid her face in her hands and groaned. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Let me take care of it...as your best friend."

"...Why? Why would you do something so kind after I've betrayed you twice?"

"Because you followed your heart and I can never fault that." Djinjer wrapped her arms around Kimberly and chuckled. "Really, I don't mind talking to him. Where is he?"

"He's at his cousin's home," Djinjer froze, "Prince Liam's house!"

* * *

Djinjer walked along the familiar road with a smile. Gilneas was exactly like she always remembered it. It smelled so lovely, too! But she wondered, how was this happening? Was she dead? Was this heaven? If heaven was a chance to live your life over again with nothing going wrong, then this...was lovely. Djinjer giggled as she thought about what life would be like without the Cataclysm or the curse of the worgen. And as she came up upon the house, she found the two men fencing in the front yard. Liam chuckled as he lunged at his cousin. Zathaniel, on the other hand, snorted and dodged his attack. "You're slower today, cousin!"

Liam opened his mouth to reply, but immediately snapped it shut and smiled as his eyes met her. "I was just trying to give you a break, dear cousin."

Zathaniel, panting and sweating, turned his head. When their eyes met, Djinjer was surprised to see him shiver. She smiled and without a proper introduction, she walked over to him and placed her hands on her hips. "You and I have to talk and I think you might know why."

He glanced at his cousin and tossed the rapier back to him. Of course, their prince caught the rapier effortlessly. He winked at her before turning away. "I expect to hear all of the juicy details upon my return!" He bowed, chuckled, and walked into the house.

Zathaniel took a deep breath and turned to her. "I know about you," he said, "I know what the rumors are. Are you here to confirm them?"

Djinjer smiled. She could have, if she wanted to. She could have told him about all the times she and Kimberly escaped from prying eyes just to share a kiss, but instead, Djinjer decided it would be better to tell him a lie. "Kimberly and I are best friends. That is all. Now, if you are implying that being best friends means we're automatically sexually active with one another, then I know a lot of ladies, and even some men, that would enjoy watching you and your best friend." She shot her thumb over her shoulder toward the house.

Zathaniel grinned and bit his lip. "Then why are you here?"

"To end your engagement," she said with a smile. He frowned and immediately looked away, clearly annoyed. "She told me herself that she isn't in love with you...another thing, she's kind of involved with someone else."

"What?" he snarled, his angry eyes snapping back to hers.

Djinjer held her hand up, "I don't know the guy's name, so don't bother asking me. What I can tell you is that if you go through with this arrangement, she'll be miserable...and you? I know you care about her but you don't love her either. Right?" He didn't say anything. "Look, I don't want either of you to make a mistake. Your heart is far too precious to be broken, Zathaniel. End your engagement and search for true happiness. Look for the woman that makes your heart tremble and your spine tingle." She couldn't help but smile and grab his hand. "Don't marry thinking you can fall in love with one another. That isn't right."

The two stared at each other in silence. Her heart trembled and her memory raced back to the tender moment they shared together. She blushed, thinking about his body in all it's chiseled glory. She gasped as Zathaniel suddenly pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Djinjer rose to her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back with as much passion as she could muster.

* * *

Zathaniel crouched down beside the empty hole in the ground. He looked around at the scene and sighed heavily. "Who steals a body?" he asked himself for the umpteenth time.

"You mean to tell me you have know idea who took her?!"

"No, Your Highness, no! We didn't think anyone would steal our dead!"

"There are necromancers everywhere in Northrend!"

"It's fine," Zathaniel said as he stood up. "If you look close enough, you can still see the tracks of where this person dragged her."

Varian immediately approached him and crouched down beside him, studying the earth intently. "You're right," he said softly. "The body snatcher is either not strong enough to carry her or not tall enough. Didn't a Dwarf die beside her?"

"Yes, sir," said the trembling soldier. "We found his body in the wreckage and later on, we found her body quite a distance away."

Varian stood and gave a look to Zathaniel, one that clearly asked if he was alright. Zathaniel nodded in reply. Varian took a deep breath and slowly walked along the path, then looked around. "Tell me, what class was this Dwarf?"

"Shaman, sir—we waited to see if he would reincarnate, but he didn't."

"Or perhaps his spirit took a while to find his body." Varian glanced down at the other grave, which brought Zathaniel's attention to it. It did look like there was a bit more of a struggle there than at Djinjer's grave. His stomach churned at the mere thought of Djinjer having once lain here. "I assure you, we'll find the shaman alive and I can bet you anything, he's trying to bring his partner back from the dead."

Zathaniel's heart quivered. How he longed to be hopeful, though he had little faith that she could be dead for so long and still get resurrected. "I'll follow the trail as long as I can," he murmured.

"Lead the way," Varian said, dismissing the soldier.

* * *

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Djinjer sighed as she rolled over her in tiny bed beneath the stairs. "What in all Gilneas is making that blasted sound?" Tap, tap, tap. The quicker tapping brought her attention to the window. Feeling quite nervous, Djinjer slipped out of bed and approached it. She couldn't believe just who she was seeing! Silently, Djinjer made her way to the door and opened it. "What are you doing here?!" she whispered.

"I had to see you," Zathaniel whispered back. "I didn't want to leave things as badly as they were." It was her bright idea for the two of them to tell Kimberly that he had decided to end their engagement. Unfortunately, that took place in front of her parents and they just had to assume that Djinjer was corrupting their daughter even further by sabotaging her engagement. Everything got only worse as Zathaniel defended Djinjer and announced that he intended to court her, so the rumors _couldn't_ be true.

Djinjer sighed heavily. "Do you want to talk outside?"

"Are you kidding me? You'll freeze." Djinjer blushed, suddenly remembering she was wearing nothing but a large shirt and her panties.

"You can't come in," Djinjer whispered. "I don't live in a big house, you know!"

"So?" He slowly grinned. "I won't wake your parents."

Djinjer rolled her eyes and stepped aside, letting the shivering man walk into the house. He immediately sighed as he looked around, which made Djinjer feel completely self-conscious of her home. With a glare, she whispered, "You better not wake them. They won't be happy if they find a strange man in our house.

"There's a strange man in your house?" he asked as he followed her to her bed. "This is cute." He sat beside her on the bed and smiled.

"You're the strange man," she whispered, blushing heavily.

"Am I?" his fake surprise made her giggle, which made him smile. He leaned over and without any hesitation, Djinjer leaned in, kissing him and pulling him into her arms. It didn't come as a surprise that he removed her undergarments and became one with her. The feeling of him entering her was pure ecstasy and what made all of this so much better was that they had to remain quiet. Djinjer wrapped her legs around his waist just as he picked up his pace just a little. To her sheer horror, she let out a whine, which made him smile and place his hand over her mouth.

"Djinjer?" She had expected him to freeze, to stop moving, to possibly even be half as terrified as she suddenly became, but he continued moving. "Are you alright?"

Zathaniel removed her hand and whispered into her ear, "Yes, mom."

"Yes, mom," she repeated, loud enough for her mother to hear.

"Oh...alright. I heard a ruckus." Zathaniel snickered quietly. "Get some sleep, love."

"Of course," Djinjer said in a tone that could be mistaken for sleepiness. Djinjer dug her nails into his shoulders as their lips continued to lock and unlock.

"Marry me," he whispered between kisses.

"Of course," she repeated in a whisper. She gasped silently as her body arched and Zathaniel bit down onto her shoulder, releasing himself inside of her. "I love you," she said softly as he collapsed beside her.

"I loved you the moment I saw you," he replied, pulling her into his arms. Djinjer immediately fell asleep. In fact, she fell asleep too quickly. In fact, she was freezing...and the bed...suddenly felt very hard and very cold. Djinjer tried opening her eyes, but she just couldn't.

"Come on, lass," said a familiar voice. "Come back. You're warm and breathing, so come back."

Djinjer body suddenly spasmed as it immediately transformed into its true, worgen form. Djinjer lurched up and let out a roar as warmth seemed to race through her entire body. She collapsed back onto the cold, stone slab and focused on breathing. Her lungs and muscles ached, even her heart did. But the more she thought about her chance at a second life, tears filled her eyes. Slowly, Djinjer looked over at the shaman. He had distanced himself from her and braced himself with his weapons. "Why didn't you let me stay dead? I was home. I had my family." She covered her eyes with her fur covered hands and wept, mourning the life she could have had.

* * *

Zathaniel patted his companion. "Good boy," he said to Brutus. Zathaniel followed Varian along the path that Brutus had returned from and immediately, Zathaniel's heart launched itself into his throat. There were tracks everywhere in the snow, fresh tracks and smoke was still rising from the extinguished remains of a fire.

"This is definitely the spot," Varian murmured, pointing out the patterns in the snow. "Zathaniel...Djinjer is alive." Varian stood up and smiled, placing his hands upon his cousin's shoulders. "She's alive!" 

* * *

**Note: **_Is this truly the end for this story? Definitely not! But this is the end for this segment of Djinjer's life. I know the story hasn't been absolutely perfect, but it was definitely a learning experience. So what's next for Djinjer? Pay close attention to my stories to find out! I'll be posting a whole new story and Chapter as soon as it's finished :) I'm hoping that the new story will wrap things up for our dear, dramatic, love sick couple! ^_^ Thanks for sticking around!_


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